THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 

ENDOWED  BY 
JOHN  SPRUNT  HILL 
CLASS  OF  1889 

VG970.77 

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Dark  Days  of  the  Rebellion, 


-OR— 


Life  in  Southern 
Military  Prisons 


GIVING  A  CORRECT  AND  THRILLING 
HISTORY  OF 


Unparalled  Suffering, 

Narrow  Escapes, 

Heroic  Encounters, 

Bold  Achievements, 

Cold  Blooded  Murders, 

Severe  Tests  of  Loyalty, 
And  Patriotism. 


Written  from  a  diary  kept  while  in  Libby  and  Salisbury  Prisons 
in  1S64-5,  and  now  in  possession  of  the  author. 


By  B.  F.  BOOTH, 

Late  Co.  I,  22d  la.  Vol.  Inft. 


BOOTH  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 

JNDIANOLA,  IOWA. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1897,  by  B.  F.  Booth,  in 
the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


To  the  Widows, 

Children,  Fathers,  Mothers, 
Brothers,  Sisters,  Friends 
and  Surviving  Comrades 


OF  THE 


THOUSANDS  OF  BRAVE  MEN 


Who  left  the  pleasures  and  comforts  of 
home,  abandoned  cherished  enterprises 
and  business  schemes . 


FOR  THE  PURPOSE  OF 

SERVING  THEIR  COUNTRY 


AND  WHO  HAVE  BEEN  CAPTURED  BY  THE 
ENEMY  WHILE  IN  THE  FAITHFUL  PER¬ 
FORMANCE  OF  THEIR  DUTY, 


AND  GONE  DOWN  TO 


Untimely  Graves  Through  Unparalleled  Sufferings, 

Is  this  Volume  Most  Respectfully  Dedicated  by 

THE  AUTHOR, 


HE  FOLLOWING  pages  are  offered  to  inquiring  minds 
V  with  the  hope  that  they  may  throw  some  light  upon  the 
inhuman  treatment  we  received  in  Southern  prisons. 

The  multiplied  woes  of  the  battle-field,  the  suffering  of  the  sick 
and  wounded  in  hospitals  which  the  federal  government  had 
established,  might  almost  be  considered  the  enjoyments  of 
Paradise,  when  compared  with  the  heart-rending  and  prolonged 
agonies  of  captives  in  rebel  stockades. 

For  thirty-one  years  I  have  waited  and  watched  for  some 
one  to  publish  a  history  of  Salisbury,  N.  C.,  Prison,  but  I  have 
waited  in  vain.  I  am  egotistic  enough  to  believe  that  the  rea¬ 
son  why  such  a  history  has  not  appeared  is  because  no  other 
man  brought  out  from  that  place  of  inhuman  torture  has  the 
data  from  which  to  compile  such  a  history.  It  is  a  singular  fact 
that  Libby,  Andersonville,  Belle  Isle,  and  other  Southern 
prisons  have  had  such  a  large  place  in  the  published  records  of 
the  war,  that  they  have  become  household  names  in  Northern 
homes;  while  I  am  convinced  that  thousands  of  our  loval  people 
do  not  know  that  such  a  place  as  Salisbury  Prison  ever  existed. 
And  yet,  in  this  prison  pen  more  of  our  brave  and  noble 
soldiers  were  killed,  died  from  starvation,  and  from  numerous 
loathsome  diseases  and  conditions,  than  in  any  other  prison  in 
the  Southern  Confederacy  during  the  dark  days  of  the  war. 

My  only  purpose  in  writing  this  book  is  to  give  a  true  record 
of  life  and  conditions  as  I  experienced  and  observed  them  dur¬ 
ing  my  imprisonment  in  Libby  and  Salisbury  prisons.  Every 
day  of  the  time,  beginning  with  my  capture  October  19,  1864, 
to  my  return  home,  March  19,  1865  (except  during  my  long 


sickness  altar  reaching  home),  I  kept  a  true  and  faithful  record 
of  all  that  was  experienced  by  me  or  that  passed  under  my 
eyes.  To  what  straits  I  was  often  put  to  get  material  on  which 
to  write  the  daily  record— the  scraps  of  paper,  books,  in  fact 
anything  and  everything  that  would  show  a  pencil  mark,  the 
careful  treasuring  of  bits  of  pencils,  often  less  than  an  inch  in 
length;  the  many  narrow  escapes  I  ran  of  losing  my  precious 
records,  and  the  many  ways  which  I  took  to  hide  them  from  the 
eyes  of  prison  authorities,  who  would  never  have  allowed  me  to 
take  them  out  of  the  prison  if  they  had  known  I  had  them;  of 
these  and  many  other  interesting  things  connected  with  the  mak¬ 
ing  and  preservation  of  this  journal,  I  can  not  now  wr  e. 

I  am  aware  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  presumption  forme 
to  pretend  to  claim  that  this  is  a  complete  history  of  Salisbury 
Prison.  No;  no  tongue  nor  pen  can  tell  the  whole,  dreadful 
story  of  this  awful  place.  I  do  claim  that  it  is  a  correct 
history  so  far  as  the  experience,  observation,  study  and  con¬ 
scientious  preservation  of  written  facts  of  one  man  can  make 
it.  My  claim  of  accuracy  is  strengthened  by  endorsements 
received  from  officers  of  the  Confederate  army  who  were 
familiar  with  the  prison,  and  from  hundreds  of  comrades  who 
were  sad  participants  with  me  in  the  events  and  experiences  of 
which  I  have  written.  For  reasons  stated  at  the  proper  place, 
the  schedule  of  the  daily  death-list,  found  in  Chapter  22,  who 
were  taken  out  and  buried  in  the  trenches  was  made  by  my 
own  hands  from  the  records  of  the  dead-house  the  day  I  went 
out  of  the  prison,  and  is  the  only  record  of  the  Salisbury  Prison 
dead  in  existence.  It  is  absolutely  correct  as  I  have  still  in  my 
possession  the  original  record  made  by  me  in  that  dead-house? 

Some  there  are  who  will  say;  ,l  Why  publish  such  books. 
Why  not  let  by-gones  be  by-gones?  Why  not  let  the  dead  past 
stay  where  it  belongs?  Instead  of  arousing  animosity,  and  per¬ 
petuating  the  bitterness  of  those  sad  days,  we  ought  to  do  all 
we  can  to  blot  out  the  dark  memories  and  perpetuate  peace  and 

1 5 


good-will  among  all  men.” 

That  is  true.  We  rejoice  that  the  war  is  over;  that  peace 
reigns  over  all  the  land;  that  nature  and  the  advance  of  enter¬ 
prise  are  slowly,  but  surely,  blotting  out  all  traces  of  Southern 
prison  pens;  that  our  glorious  flag  waves  over  a  united  nation. 
I  rejoice  in  all  this,  while  at  the  same  time  I  am  sure  that  the 
story  of  our  great  conflict  for  the  preservation  of  the  Union,  and 
the  defense  of  our  flag,  will  never  cease  to  be  of  interest  and 
importance  to  those  who  were  either  directly  or  indirectly 
engaged  in  the  mighty  conflict.  This  Nation  can  not  afford  to 
forget  the  men  who  fought  its  battles  from  1801-1865.  It  can 
not  afford  to  forget  the  deeds  of  daring  and  suffering  on  battle¬ 
fields  and  in  prison  pens  which  make  these  years  the  most 
memorable  in  American  history. 

I  do  not  ask  for  vengeance  or  retribution  for  the  thousands 
of  heroic  men  who  died  from  murder,  starvation,  cruelty  and 
disease  in  these  prison  pens  of  the  Confederacy.  I  only  ask 
that  the  great  sacrifices  of  my  dead  comrades  shall  not  be  suf¬ 
fered  to  pass  into  oblivion.  I  ask  that  the  example  of  this 
noble  heroism  and  loyality  to  their  country  and  their  flag  shall 
not  be  forgotten  or  treated  as  a  mere  trifle.  Let  their  deeds  be 
treasured  and  handed  down  to  the  generations  yet  to  come, 
that  they  too  may  be  as  ready  to  do,  and  dare,  and  die  for  right, 
honor  and  good  government,  when  these  are  assailed  by  the 
enemies  of  the  Nation,  whether  at  home  or  abroad,  as  were  the 
men  of  1861-1865.  It  seems  to  me  that  in  order  to  show  our 
appreciation  of  their  virtue,  and  reap  the  reward  of  their  sowing 
of  tears  and  blood,  we  must  hold  up  to  scorn  the  crime  of  those 
who  made  their  sacrifices  necessary.  I  can  not  understand 
what  good  examples  of  such  heroic  sacrifice  can  accomplish  if 
they  are  to  be  followed  by  such  a  maudlin  confusion  of  moral 
ideas  as  now  threaten  to  obliterate  all  distinction  between  the 
men  who  fought,  and  suffered,  and  died  for  the  right,  and  those 
who  resisted,  killed  and  tortured  them  for  the  wrong. 

7 


> 


s-> 


.... 


I  am  conscious  that,  from  a  literary  standpoint,  this  book  is 
open  to  severe  criticism.  I  do  not  claim  literary  accuracy  for 
it.  I  have  endeavored  to  give,  as  nearly  as  I  could,  the  facts  as 
they  were  originally  constructed.  Therefore,  I  beg  the  leniency 
of  critics,  bearing  in  mind  that  my  on!y  purpose  is  to  give  a 
plain,  honest,  impartial  history  of  life  in  Salisbury  Prison— the 
only  work  of  the  kind  now  in  existence. 

B.  F.  BOOTH, 

Late  of  Company  22d  Iowa  Infantry. 


8 


CHAPTER  I 


The  Beginning — Attack  on  and  Surrender  of 


Fort  Sumpter — Its  Effect  upon  the  North — 
Call  for  Troops — Battle  of  Bull  Run — More 
Troops  Called  Out — Iowa  Immediately  Re¬ 
sponds! — I  Enlist  in  the  22nd  Infantry — 
Ordered  South — Campaigning  in  Missouri — 


Capture  and  Death  of  a  Bushwhacker 


At  the  hour  of  2  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  of 


April  11th,  1861,  General  Beauregard,  com- 

' '  1  ‘  '  <N'. 


manding  the  Provisional  Army  of  the  Confeder¬ 
ate  States  of  America,  at  Charleston,  S.  C.,  sent 


a  courier  to  Major  Robert  Anderson,  of  the  1st 


U.  S.  Artillery,  commanding  Fort  Sumpter, 
demanding,  in  the  name  of  the  Confederate 
States  of  America,  the  surrender  of  the  Fort,  its 
garrison  and  equipments,  and  specifying  the 
hour  of  6  o’clock  P.  M.,  as1  the  limit  of  time 
allowed  for  answer  to  his  demand.  Within  the 
time  specified,  Major  Anderson  returned  the  fol¬ 
lowing  answer: 

“I  have  the  honor  to  acknowledge  the  receipt 
of  your  communication  demanding  the  evacua¬ 
tion  of  this  Fort,  and  to  say  in  reply  thereto, 
that  it  is  a  demand  which  I  regret  that  my  sense 


9 


of  honor  and  of  my  obligations  to  my  Govern¬ 
ment,  prevent  my  compliance.” 

Beauregard  at  once  wired  Major  Anderson’s 
answer  to  the  Confederate  Secretary  of  War  at 
Richmond,  to  which  that  official  replied  as 
follows : 

“Do  not  desire  needlessly  to  bombard  Fort 
Sumpter.  If  Major  Anderson  will  state  the 
time  at  which,  as  indicated  by  himself,  he  will 
evacuate,  and  agree  that  in  the  meantime  he 
will  not  use  his  guns-  against  us,  unless  ours 
should  be  employed  against  Fort  Sumpter,  you 
are  authorized  thus  to  avoid  the  effusion  of 
blood.  If  this,  or  its  equivalent,  be  refused, 
reduce  the  fort  as  your  judgment  decides  to  be 
practicable.” 

At  the  hour  of  11  o’clock  that  night  General 
Beauregard  conveyed  to  Major  Anderson  the 
substance  of  his  instructions  from  the  Confed¬ 
erate  Secretary  of  War.  To  this  communica¬ 
tion  Major  Anderson  responded  by  courteously, 
but:  firmly,  refusing  to  surrender  or  evacuate 
Fort  Sumpter  unless  compelled  to  do  so  by  the 
success  of  the  assaulting  forces,  or.  by  order  of 
the  United  States  Government.  Thereupon 
Beauregard  telegraphed  the  Confederate  Secre¬ 
tary  at  Richmond: 

“He  will  not  consent.” 


10 


At  3  o’clock  A.  M.,  Major  Anderson  received 
*  Beauregard’s  ultimatum  in  the  following  mes¬ 
sage  conveyed  to  him  by  Col.  Chestnut  and  Cap¬ 
tain  Lee: 

“By  authority  of  Brigadier  General  Beaure¬ 
gard,  commanding  the  Provisional  Forces  of  the 
Confederate  States,  we  have  the  honor  to  notify 
you  that  he  will  open  the  fire  of  his  batteries  on 
Fort  Sumpter  in  one  hour  from  this  time.” 

Already  Stevens’  mortar  battery  at  Sullivan 
Island  was  shotted,  ready  to  open  fire  on  Fort 
Sumpter.  At  precisely  4:30  o’clock  in  the  after¬ 
noon  of  the  12th  of  April,  1861,  Beauregard  gave 
the  fatal  order.  At  once  an  old  man,  lean  and 
long-haired,  with  eyes  fairly  blazing  in  their 
sockets,  tottered  forward  and  eagerly  grasping 
in  his  long,  bony  hands  a  lanyard,  pulled  the 
string.  A  flash,  a  roar,  and  away  across  the 
waters  of  Charleston  Bay  speeds  the  shrieking 
shell  on  its  mission  of  death  and  destruction. 
The  old  man  worked  his  fingers  in  an  ecstacy  of 
fiendish  delight,  while  he  chuckled  and  raved  to 
those  about  him: 

“Aye,  I  told  them  at  Columbia  that  night,  that 
the  defense  of  the  South  is  to  be  secured  only 
through  the  lead  of  South  Carolina;  and,  old  as 
I  am,  I  had  come  here  to  join  them  in  that  lead 
— and  T  have  done  it!” 


That  old  man  was  Edmund  Ruffin,  of  Virginia. 
Simultaneously  with  the  flash  of  that  first  gun, 
and  the  bursting  of  that  first  shell,  Beauregard 
telegraphed  to  Secretary  Walker: 

“We  opened  fire  at  half  past  four  o’clock !” 

The  first  shot  was  followed  by  a  most  wither¬ 
ing  and  continuous  bombardment  from  the  net¬ 
work  of  batteries  with  which  the  rebels’  had 
invested  Fort  Sumpter.  Reinforcements  fail¬ 
ing  to  reach  him,  the  fort  in  ruins,  liis  guns  dis¬ 
mounted,  his  powder  magazines  exploded,  leav¬ 
ing  him  only  four  barrels'  and  three  cartridges 
of  powder,  his  provisions  all  gone,  fire  spreading 
on  every  hand  until  there  was  not  a  portion  of 
the  fort  left  where  a  breath  of  air  could  be  got, 
except  through  a  wet  cloth,  the  brave  Anderson 
was  compelled  to  capitulate  and  surrender  the 
fort  on  the  terms  offered  by  Beauregard  on  the 
11th.  On  Sunday  forenoon,  April  14th,  with 
colors  flying  and  drums  beating,  lie  marched  his 
gallant  command  out  of  the  wreck  of  Fort 
Sumpter,  bringing  away  company  and  private 
property,  and  saluting  his  flag  with  fifty  guns. 

The  first  blow  struck  at  the  flag  almost  para¬ 
lyzed  the  North.  The  first  reports  of  the  con¬ 
flict  were  discredited,  many  deeming  such  a 
thing  impossible.  But  the  announcement  of  the 
surrender  of  Fort  Sumpter,  the  defiant  editorials 
of  the  leading  southern  papers  and  the  procla- 

12 


mation  of  President  Lincoln  calling  for  75,000 
volunteers  which  appeared  in  the  northern 
papers  on  Monday  morning,  April  15th,  aroused 
the  North  to  a  sense  of  the  situation,  and  the 
terrible  fact  that  the  threats  of  the  Southern  fire 
eaters  were  at  last  put  into  execution,  and  the 
great  civil  war — the  conflict  and  crime  of  the 
ages — was  inaugurated. 

The  work  of  enlisting  soldiers  in  response  to 
the  call  of  the  President  was  carried  forward 
with  the  greatest  enthusiasm.  Crowds  of 
excited  men  marched  and  countermarched 
through  the  cities  and  towns  of  the  North. 
Drums  were  beating,  banners  flying,  while  the 
air  was  rent  with  the  wildest  cheering  for  the 
Union.  Not  only  was  the  call  for  75,000  men  at 
once  filled,  but  over  half  a  million  of  men  were 
clamoring  for  the  privilege  of  being  enrolled  for 
the  defense  of  the  Union  and  the  honor  of  the 
flag.  It  soon  became  apparent  to  President 
Lincoln  that  75,000  troops  were  not  enough  to 
meet  the  demands  of  the  war  which  was  now 
on  in  full  force,  so  in  May  lie  issued  another 
proclamation  calling  for  42,000  additional 
troops  whose  term  of  enlistment  should  be  for 
three  years  or  during  the  war. 

After  some  preliminary  skirmishing,  resulting 
in  some  loss  on  both  sides,  the  first  great  battle 
of  the  war,  known  as  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  was 

13 

;'V?  ‘  ,  • 


fought  on  the  21st  of  July,  1861.  The  Union 
forces  were  repulsed  and  retreated  in  a  some¬ 
what  demoralized  condition  on  the  City  of 
Washington;  but  it  is  also  true  that  the  enemy 
was  even  more  seriously  defeated.  General 
Stonewall  Jackson,  in  his  report  of  the  battle, 
confesses  that,  although  he  had,  at  the  last 
moment,  broken  the  center  of  the  Union  line, 
both  flanks  of  his  own  army  were  turned  and 
placed  in  great  danger  of  being  totally  defeated. 
The  most  that  can  be  said  for  this  first  serious 
battle  of  the  terrible  civil  war  is,  that  it  was  a 
drawn  battle.  The  war  was  now  fully  inaugu¬ 
rated,  and  the  loyal  people  of  the  North  awoke 
to  the  fact  that  the  forces  already  in  the  field 
were  not  sufficient  to  conquer  the  South  and  pre¬ 
serve  the  Union. 

The  battles  which  were  fought  in  the  early 
part  of  the  war  convinced  President  Lincoln 
and  his  Cabinet  that  the  war  was  going  to  be  one 
of  vast  proportions  and  in  order  to  strengthen 
the  army  and  put  troops  enough  in  the  field  to 
conquer  the  rebellious  South,  he  issued  his  call 
for  300,000  additional  volunteers.  As  soon  as 
the  old  war  Governor  of  Iowa,  Hon.  Samuel  J. 
Kirkwood,  received  notice  of  Iowa’s  quota,  he 
at  once  issued  his  proclamation  calling  on  the 
loyal  people  of  the  State  to  meet  it.  Recruiting 
officers  were  at  work  in  the  towns  and  cities  of 

14 


the  State  and  the  work  of  enlistment  went  on 
rapidly  and  with  great  enthusiasm.  Regiment 
after  regiment  was  mustered  into  the  service  • 
and  was  .sent  to  the  front,  and  in  a  very  short 
time  Iowa’s  quota  was  full  and  thousands'  were 
still  offering  their  services  to  their  country. 

The  author  of  this  book  was  one  of  the  many 
thousands  who  responded  to  this  last  call, 
enlisting  in  Company  “I,”  22nd  Iowa  Infantry, 
at  Iowa  City,  in  the  month  of  July,  1862,  and 
was  mustered  into  service  August  9,  1862,  by 
General  Henderson,  U.  S.  Mustering  Officer. 
The  regiment  remained  in  Iowa  City  at  what 
was  known  as'  “Camp  Pope,”  until  September 
25th,  when  it  was  armed,  equipped  and  sent  to 
the  front  to  become  a  part  of  the  great  army 
which  had  already  preceded  it.  When  the  regi¬ 
ment,  most  of  whom  had  bidden  good-bye  to 
wives,  children,  fathers  and  mothers,  brothers 
and  sisters,  leaving  the  comforts  and  safety  of 
home  for  the  privations  and  dangers  of  a  sol¬ 
dier’s  life  that  they  might  engage  in  the  great 
conflict  for  God  and  human  rights.  High 
hopes  were  entertained  that  the  war  would  end 
long  before  the  term  of  our  enlistment  which 
was  for  three  years  or  during  the  war.  Alas! 
how  little  we  knew  what  those  years  would 
bring  forth,  or  through  what  scenes  and  exper¬ 
iences  of  trial  and  suffering  we  would  pass 

15 


/ 


before  the  time  of  our  service  was  ended! 

The  regiment  arrived  at  Benton  Barracks,  St. 
Louis,  Missouri,  early  in  October,  where  we 
spent  a  short  time,  the  greater  part  of  which 
was  devoted  to  the  task  of  drilling.  About  the 
middle  of  October  we  were  ordered  to  Rolla, 
Missouri,  where  we  were  assigned  to  garrison 
duty  at  that  important  post.  Here  we  spent 
the  greater  part  of  the  winter  of  1862  and  1863, 
guarding  commissary  stores,  protecting  railroad 
trains',  furnishing  escorts  to  the  wagon  trains 
carrying  stores  and  ammunition  to  the  different 
detachments  and  army  posts  in  western  and 
southern  Missouri.  At  that  period  there  were 
no  large  forces  of  rebels  in  Missouri.  Price  had 
been  driven  out  of  the  State  and  liis  command 
broken  up  into  detachments  and  guerilla  bands, 
whose  business  it  was  to  attack  scouting  parties 
from  the  Union  posts,  harass  and  hinder  the 
movement  of  supplies  by  rail  and  wagon  trains’. 
The  men  composing  these  roving,  plundering, 
maurading  bands  were  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  country  in  which  they  operated,  there¬ 
fore  it  required  the  presence  of  strong  escorts  to 
save  the  supply  trains  from  being  captured  and 
destroyed,  or  turned  over  to  the  service  of  their 
friends.  This  kind  of  service,  performed  as  it 
was,  in  all  kinds  of  weather  and  over  roads  that 
were  often  almost  impassable,  crossing  streams 


16 


for  the  most  part  bridgeless,  making  it  neces¬ 
sary  for  the  soldiers  to  wade  them  neck  deep  in 
mnd  and  water,  impressed  the  men  of  the  22nd 
Iowa  that  real  soldiering  was  not  child’s  play. 

On  the  9th  of  February,  1863,  we  were  ordered 
to  break  camp  and  be  ready  to  march  at  the 
lionr  of  noon  of  the  same  day.  Onr  destination 
was  West  Plains,  Missouri,  thence  over  the 
Ozark  Mountains  to  Iron  Mountain,  from  there 
to  St.  Genevieve,  on  the  Mississippi  River,  where 
we  were  to  embark  on  a  steamboat  for  Milliken’s 
Bend,  near  Vicksburg.  One  morning  a  courier 
was  carrying  an  order  from  Brigadier  General 
Davidson,  who  was  in  command  of  the  expedi¬ 
tion,  to  Colonel  Stone,  who  commanded  the  22nd 
Iowa,  when  he  was  fired  upon  by  a  bushwhacker 
who  was  hidden  in  the  dense  undergrowth 
which  lined  the  road  on  either  side.  Before  the 
bushwhacker  could  make  good  his  escape  he 
was  captured,  brought  into  our  camp  and  placed 
under  guard.  Continuing  our  march  over  the 
mountains,  we  passed  through  a  desolate, 
uninhabited  region,  not  a  human  being  or  habi- 
tation  being  visible  in  the  heavy  timber.  Sud¬ 
denly  we  came  upon  a  small  log  cabin  which 
our  prisoner  said  was  his  residence.  Having 
asked  and  gained  permission  to  see  his  wife, 
with  the  injunction  to  make  the  interview  very 
brief,  lie  called  her  to  the  door  where  they 
engaged  in  conversation  for  a  few  moments.  He 

17 


was  then  ordered  to  close  the  sad  interview  and 
move  forward,  but  being  stubborn  and  rather 
slow  to  comply,  he  was  brought  to  his  senses, 
and  to  a  compliance  with  the  order,  by  the  sharp 
prick  of  a  bayonet.  He  moved  on  with  dogged 
steps  about  one  hundred  yards,  and  then,  with¬ 
out  uttering  a,  word  he  made  one  desperate  leap 
from  the  side  of  his  guard,  gained  the  timber 
and  with  the  fleetness  of  a  deer  ran  down  a  steep 
hill.  Instantly  a  dozen  or  more  guns  were 
leveled  upon  him.  Three  times  he  was'  ordered 
to*  halt,  which  he  disregarded,  when  a  volley  was 
sent  after  the  fleeing  man,  and  he  fell  dead.  His 
wife  seeing  the  desperate  leap  he  had  made  for 
his  life,  and  seeing  him  fall  at  the  report  of  the 
guns,  came  running  to  his  aid,  but  she  was  too 
late  to  render  him  any  assistance,  his  spirit  had 
already  ascended  to  God  who  gave  it.  The  des¬ 
perate  man  had  paid  the  penalty  of  his  attempt 
to  commit  murder.  Leaving  him  in  the  care  of 
his  weeping  wife,  the  command  pushed  forward 
to  encounter  other  scenes  of  horror  and  blood¬ 
shed,  but  none  more  weird  and  tragic  than  the 
death  of  the  unknown  bushwhacker  of  the  Ozark 
Mountains. 


18 


CHAPTER  II. 


Embark  for  Vicksburg; — The  Vicksburg  Cam¬ 
paign — Gunboats  Run  the  Gauntlet — 

Advance  on  Vicksburg — Halleck’s  Order  and 
Grant’s  Reply — Charge  of  Lawler’s  Brigade 
— Desperate  Charge  of  the  22nd  Iowa 
Infantry — Heroic  Act  of  Sergeant  N.  C.  Mes¬ 
senger. 

At  St.  Genevive  we  boarded  a  steamboat 
and  were  taken  down  the  Mississippi  River  to 
Milliken’s  Bend,  where  we  were  assigned  to  the 
13th  Army  Corps.  General  Grant  was  then 
engaged  in  making  preparations  for  the  speedy 
reduction  and  capture  of  Vicksburg  and  the 
opening  up  of  the  Mississippi  River  to  the 
Union  gunboats  and  transports.  Almost  insur¬ 
mountable  difficulties  seemed  to  stand  in  the 
way  of  accomplishing  that  great  work  as  speed¬ 
ily  as  it  was  at  first  intended.  The  river  itself 
was  at  flood-tide,  filling  the  innumerable  bay¬ 
ous,  creeks  and  lagoons,  which  ran  in  almost 
every  direction  about  the  city.  But  at  last  the 
waters  subsided  sufficiently  to  make  it  possible 
for  Grant’s  army,  which  had  been  wading  and 

19 


swimming*  tlie  swollen  streams,  to  find  sufficient 
dry  land  to  begin  operations,  and  instead  of 
wasting  their  time  and  strength  fighting  alliga- 
eors  and  other  reptiles,  to  begin  the  more  useful, 
though  dangerous  work  of  fighting  “Johnnies.” 

The  plan  of  the  Vicksburg  campaign  is  now 
so  well  known  that  it  is  needless  to  dwell  upon 
it  at  any  length.  General  Grant’s  army  was 
to  be  marched  down  the  west  bank  of  the  river 
to  a  point  below  Vicksburg,  and  from  thence, 
under  cover  of  the  gunboats,  was  to*  cross  the 
river  and  attack  that  great  rebel  stronghold 
from  the  rear.  This  was  one  of  the  most  desper¬ 
ate  movements  of  the  war.  General  Grant  said 
it  was  a  sight  magnificent,  but  terrible. 

At  about  10  o’clock  on  the  night  of  the  16th 
of  April,  1864,  eight  gunboats  and  three  tran¬ 
sports  started  on  the  perilous  undertaking  of 
running  the  batteries  which  defended  Vicks¬ 
burg  on  the  river  front.  All  the  skill  and 
strength  of  the  rebel  government  had  been 
employed  in  making  these  defenses  as  complete 
as  they  could  be  made.  The  best  engineering 
talent  had  been  employed  in  their  construction 
and  the  heaviest  and  most  powerful  guns  were 
mounted  on  their  ramparts,  or  looked  out  from 
their  embrasures.  General  Grant,  from  a  tug¬ 
boat  stationed  in  the  river,  watched  the'  brave 
men  start  on  their  perilous  journey,  while  at  a 

20 


point  further  down  the  river,  immediately  oppo¬ 
site  the  rebel  batteries,  General  Sherman,  with 
a  small  detachment  of  soldiers,  awaited  tlieir 
coming,  intending  to  render  all  the  assistance 
he  could  to  the  crews  of  the  boats  if  the  rebel 
batteries  succeeded  in  sinking  them.  Admiral 
Porter,  who  commanded  the  expedition,  gave 
orders  to  his  officers  to  get  under  way,  his  own 
flag-ship,  the  “Benton,”  taking  the  lead.  The  , 
rebels  kept  a  sharp  lookout  and  the  advancing 
ironclads,  though  only  drifting  with  the  cur¬ 
rent,  moving  as  noislessly  as  the  gentle  flow  of 
the  river  itself,  were  speedily  discovered.  In 
an  instant,  a  huge  solid  shot  shrieked  through 
the  darkness  above  the  vessels  and  buried1  itself 
in  the  river  beyond.  The  next  moment  was  one 
Of  profound  silence,  and  then,  as  if  all  the  furies 
of  Pandemonium  were  let  loose  at  once,  the  calm 
was  broken  by  the  roar  of  Vicksburg’s  heaviest 
and  most  terrible  batteries.  Shot,  shell  and 
straight  bolts  of  iron  were  hurled  with  the  most 
terrific  fury  and  precision  through  the  tremb¬ 
ling  atmosphere.  Immense  piles  of  wood  and 
rosin  had  been  gathered  at  the  various  head¬ 
lands,  to  which  the  match  was  now  applied,  and 
these,  like  monstrous  torches,  suddenly  thrust 
up  out,  of  the  earth,  blazed  forth,  flinging  their 
fierce  light  far  out  into1  the  river,  so  that  not 
only  was  the  fleet  brought  into  clear  view,  but 


21 


the  entire  river  for  miles  was  illumined  as  with 
the  light  of  day.  Two  of  Porter’s  ironclads  were 
sunk,  consorts  and  transports  crushed  into  each 
other  in  their  mad  efforts  to  escape  the  awful 
effects  of  the  tremendous,  withering  fire  from 
rebel  artillery.  Some  of  the  transports  turned 
back,  hoping  to  escape  destruction  by  steaming 
up  the  river,  but  Porter  had  prepared  for  this, 
•  and  the  retreaters  were  driven  back  by  a  gun¬ 
boat  which  brought  up  the  rear  of  the  advanc¬ 
ing  line.  Signal  after  signal  went  up  from  the 
deck  of  the  “Benton,”  as  though  the  noble  ves¬ 
sel  was  lying  quietly  at  her  anchorage,  while 
from  the  staff  the  Admiral’s  pennant  flouted 
out  proudly,  defiantly  on  the  hot,  night  air.  It 
took  the  boats  two  hours  to  pass  through  the 
awful  storm  of  shot  and  shell  hurled  against 
them]  from  the  rebel  guns',  some  of  them  at 
almost  point-blank  range.  Strange  to  say,  only 
two  boats  were  sunk,  the  rest  ran  the  gauntlet 
in  safety.  The  fleet  came  to  anchor  below  the 
danger  point,  andi  Grant’s  invincible  army  was 
in  a  position  to  cross  in  almost  complete  safety. 

The  point  where  the  greater  part  of  his  army 
crossed  the  river  was  known  as  Bruinsburg,  and 
from  thence  the  march  to-  Vicksburg  was  com¬ 
menced.  McCleland’s  corps  led  the  advance 
of  the  army,  having  the  2nd  Brigade  of  Carr’s 
division,  commanded  by  Col.  Wm.  M.  Stone,  of 


22 


cb  . 


the  22nd  Iowa,  ait  thej  head  of  the  column. 
Nothing  of  unusual  interest  transpired  until 
about  the  hour  of  midnight,  when  the  advance 
encountered  the  enemy  about  eight  miles  from 
Port  Gibson.  Here  was  fought  the  first  battle 
in  the  new  campaign  against  Vicksburg.  That 
evening  Grant’s  army  marched  into  Port  Gib¬ 
son,  and  the  first  great  victory  was  gained.  On 
May  12th,  at  4  o’clock  in  the  morning,  McPher¬ 
son’s  Corps  struck  the  enemy’s  videttes  in  front 
of  Raymond,  and  at  5  o’clock  P.  M.  his  troops 
marched  into  Raymond,  the  enemy  falling  back 
on  Jackson,  the  capital  of  Mississippi.  Then  it 
was  that  the  splendid  generalship  of  Grant 
began  to  be  manifest.  Instead  of  pushing  on 
to  the  immediate  investiture  of  Vicksburg,  he 
suddenly  threw  his  entire  army  on  Jackson  and 
drove  Pemberton  into  liis  works  on  Black  River. 
This  was  one  of  the  hardest  battles  fought 
in  the  vicinity  of  Vicksburg.  The  enemy  had 
the  advantage  of  numbers,  position  and 
defenses.  But  he  was  terribly  beaten,  suffering 
a  loss  of  24  pieces  of  artillery,  3000  killed  and 
wounded,  and  3000  prisoners.  The  Union  loss 
was  2441. 

Before  9  o’clock  on  the  morning  of  the  17th 
another  battle  had;  been  fought.  While  the  battle 
was  raging  in  its  hottest  fury,  a  dashing  young 
officer  rode  up  to  General  Grant,  with  an  order 


23 


from  Genera]  Hal  leek,  who  was  then  at  the 
head  of  the  United  States  army,  commanding 
him  to  abandon  his  campaign  against  Vicks¬ 
burg  and  take  his  army  to  Port  Hudson  and 
reinforce  General  Banks.  Of  course  Halleck 
was  entirely  ignorant  of  Grant's  movements  and 
victories,  because  when  the  fighting  General 
turned  his  back  upon  the  Mississippi  River  he 
cut  off  all  communication  between  himself  and 
the  authorities  at  Washington.  They  knew 
nothing  of  him,  lie  did  not  care  to  know  much 
about  them.  General  Grant’s  reply  to  the  order 
was : 

“I  think  it  is  now  too  late.” 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  when,  on 
glancing  to  the  right,  he  saw  a  General  officer 
in  his  shirt  sleeves  ,  leading  his  brigade  to  the 
assault.  That  officer  was  General  Lawler,  and 
the  brigade  lie  was  leading  was  composed  of  the 
21st,  22nd,  and  23rd  Iowa  Infantry,  and  the 
11th  Wisconsin  Infantry.  The  object  of  the 
movement  was  an  assault  on  their  worksi  At  a 
given  signal  the  brigade,  with  a  mighty  cheer, 
left  the  cover  of  the  woods,  and,  in  spite  of  a  ter 
rific  fire  from  the  enemy,  crossed  the  open  bot¬ 
tom  on  a  run,  waded  the  bayou,  and  iirfive  min 
utes  from  the  time  the  order  to  charge  was 
given,  the  brigade  was  inside  the  rebel  breast¬ 
works.  General  Grant  said: 


24 


“It  was  a  daring  and  splendid  movement,  in 
every  way  honorable  to  the  skill  of  the  brave 
officer  who  led  it  and  the  brave  men  who  exe¬ 
cuted  it.” 

Here  let  me  say,  there  was  something  grand 
and  terrible  in  the  assaults  which  formed  such 
a  prominent  feature  in  General  Grant’s  tactics. 
Holding  a  part  of  his  army  in  reserve  for  any 
emergencies  that  might  arise,  he  managed  to 
hurl  the  other  part  of  it  with  full  force  upon  the 
point  which  he  saw  to  be  the  least  protected 
and  the  most  favorable  for  an  assualt.  It  was  not 
a  quest  ion  of  doing  an  astounding!  piece  of 
“fancy  work”  that  would  surprise  the  nation, 
but  with  the  straightforward,  powerful  push  of 
the  man  of  common  sense,  who  is  determined  to 
crush  his  opponent  at  a  single  blow.  He  did  not 
shelter  nor  spare  himself  from  danger,  and 
when  his  order  was  to  “Charge!”  lie  meant 
“charge,”  and  lie  expected  liis  men  to  under¬ 
stand  that  lie  wanted  their  bayonets  kept  well 
down  at  the  point. 

The  same  troops  who  had  sailed  and  waded 
two  hundred  miles  in  a  little  over  two  weeks, 
fought  and  won  six  battle  in  as  many  days, 
were  now  asked  to  take  Vicksburg  by  siege  or 
storm.  The  attempts  to  take  the  city  and  free 
the  waters  of  the  Mississippi  had  already  lost 
the  Union  army  10,000  men,  killed  and 

25 


wounded.  Other  loyal  lives  were  ready  for  the 
sacrifice  and  Grant’s  soldiers  urged  him  to 
assualt  the  works  at  once. 

On  the  morning  of  May  19th  saw  the  Union 
army  forming  a  semicircular  line  outside  of 
Vicksburg’s  fortifications  eight  miles  long.  Ten 
o’clock  of  the  morning  of  May  the  22nd  was  the 
time  set  for  storming  the  works.  Lawler’s  bri¬ 
gade  of  Caw’s  division,  including  the  21st,  22nd, 
and  23d  Iowa,  charged  just  south  of  the  Jack- 
son  railroad.  The  principal  fort  in  front  of 
Lawler  occupied  a  /prominent  hill  close  to  the 
railroad.  Up  this  hill  the  21st  and  22nd  Iowa 
went  with  cheer,  defying  the  hail  storm  of  bul¬ 
lets  that  met  them  on  the  way,  and  the  awful 
enfilading  fire  from  other  angles  in  the 
entrenchments.  Just  as  they  reached  the  ditch 
of  the  fort  it  was  a.  hot  and  a  dangerous  time, 
when  thirteen  men,  led  by  Sergeant  N.  0.  Mes¬ 
senger,  climbed  out  of  the  ditch  over  the 
shoulders  of  each  other,  right  into  the  fort, 
Beauregard  killing  or  dispersing  the  enemy 
within.  Such  valor  is  seldom  witnessed  in 
battle. 

Brave  as  the  action  was  it  accomplished  but 
little,  as  the  enemies  guns  so  covered  the  cap¬ 
tured  city  that  it  was  untenable.  .  Our  troops 
were  forced  to  evacuate  it,  and  it  fell  again 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  the  readers  of  this 

26 


book  for  me  to  describe  the  part,  taken  by  my 
own  regiment  in  the  terrific  assault  on  Fort 
Beauregard.  It  was  one  of  the  most  desperate 
charges  made  during  the  war.  It  was  one  of 
those  necessary  experiments  which,  in  offensive 
warfare,  a  commander  is  compelled  by  a  sense 
of  duty  to  make,  even  though  the  result  may  be 
in  doubt. 

The  22nd  Iowa  Infantry  was  commanded  by 
Col.  Wm.  M.  Stone,  and  it  led  the  Division  com¬ 
manded  by  General  Carr  in  its  assaul  on  Fort 
Beauregard.  Steadily,  and  in  splendid  order,  the 
Division  moved  forward.  Not  encountering  any 
opposition  from  the  enemy,  we  began  to  think 
the  victory  was  going  to  be  gained  without  any 
fighting.  Just  as  we  reached  a  point  close  to 
the  rebel  works,  an  obstacle  in  the  line  of  march 
made  it  necessary  to  change  the  line  to  an 
oblique,  which  brought  us  very  close  to  the  fort, 
when,  without  any  warning,  and  to  our  utter 
dismay,  a  host  of  riflemen  sprang  to  the  ram¬ 
parts  and  poured  such  a  continuous  and  deadly 
fire  into  our  lines,  that  the  division  staggered 
and  at  some  points  fell  back.  In  a  moment  the 
line  was  reformed  and  pushed  forward  to  grap¬ 
ple  with  the  rebels.  Once  more  such  a  wither¬ 
ing  fire  came  from  the  rebel  works,  that,  with 
the  exception  of  the  22nd  Iowa,  and  a  few  of  the 
11th  Wisconsin,  who  steadily  pushed  forward  to 


27 


the  ramparts  of  the  fort,  the  division  was  driven 
back  and  finally  retreated.  Here  Captain  Rob¬ 
ertson  was  killed,  and  the  final  assault  was  led 
by  Sergeant  N.  G.  Messenger,  of  Company  “I,” 
22nd  Iowa,  who  led  eleven  men  into  the  fort, 
capturing  the  garrison  consisting  of  a  Lieuten¬ 
ant  and  twelve  men.  Sergeant  Messenger  and 
his  little  band  of  brave  soldier® — Iowa  soldiers 
— held  the  fort  until  the  army  fell  back  on 
either  side,  when  the  rebels  again  rallied,  and 
having  concentrated  their  forces,  rushed  to  the 
attack  and  drove  the  captors  out  of  the  fort, 
inflicting  heavy  loss  upon  them.  This  charge  of 
the  22nd  Iowa  on  Fort  Beauregard,  on  the  22nd 
of  May,  18G3,  led  by  Col.  Wm.  M.  Stone,  and  the 
final  capture  of  the  fort  by  a  mere  handful  of 
the  regiment  under  the  heroic  leadership  of  Ser¬ 
geant  N.  C.  Messenger,  of  Co.  “I,”  was  one  of 
the  greatest  exhibitions  of  northern  bravery  to 
be  found  in  the  annals  of  the  rebellion. 


28 


CHAPTER  III. 

Fall  of  Vicksburg — Its  Irreparable  Loss  to  the 
Southern  Confederacy — We  Embark  for  New 
Orleans — Guarding  the  Governor  of  Louisi¬ 
ana — His  Ignorance  of  Iowar — The  Condition 
of  Affairs  in  1864 — We  are  Assigned  to  the 
19th  Corps — Fighting  Early  in  the  Shenan¬ 
doah  Valley — A  Rebel  Captain’s  Successful 
Scheme. 

The  forty-two  days  of  fighting,  burrowing  and 
beseiging  around  Vicksburg  were  drawing  to  a 
close.  Then  came  that  memorable  day,  when 
every  loyal  man  felt  it  to  be  a  high  privilege  to 
be  called  a  citizen  of  the  United  States.  It  was 
indeed  the  fete-day  of  the  Nation,  made  memor¬ 
able  by  the  splendid  victories  which  crowned 
the  Union  arms  at  Vicksburg,  Gettysburg  and 
Helena.  All  over  the  North  the  ringing  of  thou- 
sands  of  loyal  bells  sounded  the  death-knell  of 
the  bogus  Confederacy.  From  that  4th  day  of 
July,  1863,  the  fate  of  the  Confederacy  was 
sealed.  On  that  day  47,500  rebel  prisoners, 
headed  by  Lieutenant  General  Pemberton,  one 
of  the  bravest  and  best  of  the  Confederate  com¬ 
manders,  marched  out  of  their  defenses  at 

29 


Vicksburg,  stacked)  their  arms,  and  were 
paroled  as  prisoners  of  war.  The  glorious  Stars 
and  Stripes  were  already  floating  from  the  City 
Hall  in  Vicksburg.  The  Mississippi  River  was 
opened,  the  rebel  armies  were  divided,  their 
western  supplies  cut  off,  and  their  cause  from 
that  hour  was  hopeless.  This  was  the  most 
disastrous  defeat  suffered  by  the  Southern  Con¬ 
federacy.  The  flower  of  their  western  army 
was  destroyed  and  one  of  their  best  generals 
rendered  powerless  by  being  a  paroled  prisoner 
of  war.  The  Mississippi  River  was  cleared  of 
all  obstructions,  making  it  possible  for  Federal 
gunboats  to  patrol  it  from  Cairo  to  New 
Orleans,  so  that  the  products  of  the  North  could 
be  shipped  to  all  the  river  cities  and  towns.  The 
opening  of  the  river  also  facilitated  the  ship¬ 
ment  of  army  stores  and  the  communication  of 
the  eastern  and  western  armies.  The  helpless¬ 
ness  of  their  cause  must  have  been  apparent  to 
the  leaders  of  the  rebellion  from  the  moment 
Vicksburg  surrendered  to  General  Grant.  The 
common  instincts  of  humanity  ought  to  have 
induced  them  to  lay  down  their  arms,  disband 
their  armies,  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  the 
Union,  and  thus  avoid  the  farther  effusion  of 
blood  and  the  ravages  of  war.  But  as  will  be 
seen,  the  bitter  hatred  and  unrelenting  malice 
of  the  rebel  leaders,  civil  and)  military,  pre- 

80 


vented  them  from  accepting  the  situation  and 
following  the  dictates!  of  reason. 

After  the  fall  of  Vicksburg  the  22nd  Iowa 
embarked  for  New  Orleans,  and  from  thence 
was  moved  up  the  river  to  form  a  part  of  the 
well-known  Red  River  Expedition,  under  com¬ 
mand  of  General  Banks.  At  the  close  of  that 
expedition  the  regiment  was  again  taken  to 
New  Orleans  and  from  thence  to  Opelousas, 
Louisiana,  where  we  spent  some  time  in  hunting 
down  and  finally  dispersing  the  desperate  guer¬ 
rilla  bands  led  by  John  Morgan  and  Dick 
Taylor.  While  at  Opelousas  it  fell  to  our  lot  to 
guard,  at  his  own  plantation,  the  rebel  governor 
of  Louisiana.  Previous  to  this  time  he  had  been 
in  the  custody  of  the  Provost  Marshal  of  New 
Orleans,  but  one  of  his  daughters  having  died 
at  his  home  near  Opelousas,  the  Governor  had 
been  granted  permission  to  return  to  his  home 
to  attend  the  funeral  of  his  child.  Sorrow  makes 
all  humanity  a  great  brotherhood,  which  even 
the  stern  necessities  and  exactions  of  war  can¬ 
not  annul.  Traitor  to  his  government  though 
he  was,  yet  the  magnanimity  of  the  Union  com¬ 
mander  overcame  all  the  obstacles,  and  thus  it 
was  that  this  man  was  permitted  to  return  to 
his  home  for  the  purpose  of  kissing  the  silent 
lips  of  his  t  beloved  dead,  and  consigning  her 
remains  to  the  grave.  How  many  of  our  brave 


31 


Union  soldiers  would  have  been  glad  to  have 
enjoyed  the  same  magnanimous  action  of  the 
Confederate  authorities  in  Southern  prisons! 
But  alas !  still  greater  privation  and  suffering, 
if  not  death,  would  have  been  visited  upon  the 
man  who'  would  dare  to  make  such  a  request. 
Judge  ye  angels  and  men,  between  the  right¬ 
eousness  of  the  two  causes,  as  manifested  in  the 
acts  and  dealings  of  tlieir  leaders! 

Having  been  appointed  on  the  detail  made 
to  guard  the  residence  of  the  aforesaid  Gover¬ 
nor,  and  thus  prevent  him  from  violating  the 
terms  of  liis  permit,  it  was  my  privilege  to  come 
into  personal  association  with  his  fallen  Excel¬ 
lency,  and  have  frequent  conversations  with 
him.  During  one  of  these  conversations,  I  was 
impressed  with  the  fact  that  leadership, 
whether  civil  or  military,  in  the  Southern  Con¬ 
federacy,  was  simply  a  question  of  who  had  the 
most  money  and  the  largest  political  influence; 
not  who  had  the  most  brains,  the  best  character 
and  the  largest  ability  to  discharge  the  duties 
of  the  position.  It  came  about  in  this  Avay: 

One  day  the  Governor  seemed  to  be  unusually 
communicative  and  an  interesting  conversation 
took  place  between  him,  a  comrade  of  the  regi¬ 
ment  and  myself  relative  to  the  war  and  the 
difference  between  the  value  of  the  Greenbacks 
of  the  North  and  the  Confederate  Scrip  (or 

32 


“Gray backs,”  as  we  called  them  for  short)  of  the 
South.  After  our  conversation  on  these  topics 
had  ceased,  lip  asked  us  what  regiment  we 
belonged  to.  My  comrade  answered,  “The  22nd 
Iowa  Infantry.”  The  Governor  dropped  his 
head  and,  as  if  speaking  to  himself,  murmured : 

“The  22nd  Iowa — the  22nd  Iowa.” 

Then,  looking  up,  and  raising  his  voice  to  a 
higher  pitch,  he  asked  this  question : 

“Let  me  see;  what  State  is  Iowa  in?” 

How  would  such  an  ignoramus,  as  that  do  for 
Governor  of  Iowa?  Yet,  this  man  had  been 
elected  to  govern  the  great  state  of  Louisiana! 
He,  one  of  the  “chivalry”  of  the  great  South, 
almost  as  ignorant  as  one  of  his  own  slaves, 
upon  whom  he  was  trying  to  rivet  the  chains  of 
a  criminal  and  perpetual  bondage,  was  using  all 
the  resources  of  his  State,  and  the  power  of  his 
office,  to  prolong  a  bloody  and  wicked  war.  Had 
he  kept  hisi  mouth  shut  his  extreme  ignorance 
and*  disgrace  might  have  been  concealed,  but 
both  were  brought  into  view  by  his  question. 

Our  campaigning  in  the  vicinity  of  Opelousas 
was  so  severe' — the  regiment  being  engaged  in 
almost  continuous  lighting  and  skirmishing 
during  the  summer  and  fall  months — that  our 
numbers  became  so  depleted  we  were  ordered 
back  to  New  Orleans  and  from  thence  to  Mata¬ 
gorda  Island,  Texas,  to  recruit  our  wasted  ranks 

33 


and  get  ready  for  active  campaigning  in  the 
coming  spring. 

The  year  1863  saw  the  closing  up  of  the  third 
year  of  the  war,  of  which,  when  the  first  guns 
were  fired,  and  the  first  troops  were  ordered  out, 
wise  men,  both  North  and  South,  predicted 
would  last  only  a  few  weeks,  or  months  at  most 
— the  men  of  the  North  having  faith  in  the  abil¬ 
ity  of  the  Government  at  Washington  to  crush 
the  rebellion  before  it  got  a  foothold;  while  the 
men  of  the  South  based  their  conclusions  on 
the  universally  cherished  belief  that  one  son  of 
the  Southern  chivalry  could  easily  whip  all  the 
way  from  five  to  ten  Northern  “mud-sills” — but 
both  were  doomed  to  disappointment.  And 
now,  with  the  dawning  of  1864,  while  the  vic¬ 
tories  and  advantages  were  undoubtedly  on  the 
side  of  the  Union,  yet  the  war  was  not  ended, 
and  no  man  was  found  bold,  enough  to  predict 
when  it  would  end. 

However,  important  changes  had  taken  place 
in  the  leadership  and  disposition  of  the  Federal 
forces.  General  Grant,  had  been  made  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  of  the  Union  armies.  Assum¬ 
ing  the  duties  at  once,  lie  selected  liis  subordi¬ 
nate  commanders  and  placed  them  in  charge  of 
their  respective  Corps  and  Divisions.  He 
believed  the  time  had  come  to  make  a  clean 
sweep  of  the  Confederacy,  and  he  resolved  to 

34 


do  it.  Richmond  was  his  objective  point,  and 
the  same  plan  of  campaign  which  had  reduced 
and  compelled  the  surrender  of  Vicksburg  was 
selected  for  the  capture  of  Richmond,  and  the 
final  crushing  out  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 
General  Sheridan  was  assigned  to  the  command 
of  the  6tli,  8th  and  19th  Corps.  He  was  ordered 
to  thoroughly  reorganize  these  Corps  and  be 
ready  to  co-operate  with  the  army  against  Rich¬ 
mond.  The  13th  army  corps  had  become  so 
greatly  depleted  that  it  was  not  strong  enough 
to  maintain  a  distinct  organization,  hence  it 
was  ordered  to  Washington,  to  be  consolidated 
with  the  19th  corps.  This  was  completed  dur¬ 
ing  the  summer  of  1864,  and  in  August  Sheridan 
was  ordered  to  move  down  the  Shenandoah 
Valley,  to  co-operate  with  Grant  in  his  final 
blow  against  rebeldom. 

When  we  reached  Harper’s  Ferry  we  found 
the'  rebel  General  Early’s  forces  engaged  in 
threshing  grain,  which  the  rich  soil  of  the 
Shenandoah  Valley  produced  abundantly.  Sher¬ 
idan  at  once  gave  battle  to  Early,  and  succeeded 
in  driving  him  into  Winchester,  where  a  decis¬ 
ive  battle  was  fought,  which  resulted  in  a  glori¬ 
ous  victory  for  Sheridan’s  army.  A  number  of 
field  batteries  and  many  thousands  of  prisoners 
were  taken.  Early  then  retreated  to  Fisher’s 
Hill,  where  Sheridan  again  attacked  him  and 


35 


again  routed  him,  driving  him  down  the  Valley 
towards  Staunton,  the  terminus  of  the  railroad 
leading  into  Richmond.  Sheridan  then  fell 
back  to>  Cedar  Creek,  completely  destroying 
everything  in  the  Valley,  leaving  it  so  bare 
that  he  remarked1,  “If  a  crow  should  fly  across 
the  Valley  he  would  have  to  carry  his  rations 
wit  h  him.” 

Lee  at  once  sent  strong  reinforcements  to 
Early,  and  in  the  early  morning  of  October  19th, 
1864,  under  cover  of  a  dense  fog,  he  attacked 
Sheridan.  Our  army  lay  diagonally  across  the 
Valley,  the  6th  corps  on  the  right,  the  8th  corps 
on  the  left  and  the  19th  corps  occupying  the 
center.  At  3  o’clock  in  the  morning  the  enemy 
succeeded  in  surprising  and  capturing  our  pick¬ 
ets,  and  thus  succeeded  in  getting  on  the  flank 
of  our  army,  where  it  lay  until  daylight  before 
making  the  general  attack.  A  Confederate  Cap¬ 
tain  conceived  and  executed  the  'Scheme  for  the 
capture  of  our  pickets  and  the  surprise  of  our 
army,  which  would  have  done  credit  to  a  genu¬ 
ine-born  Yankee.  The  Confederate  army  had 
been  put  in  the  lightest  marching  condition  pos¬ 
sible — everything  that  would  in  .any  way 
impede  its  movement,  even  to  canteens,  being 
dispensed  with — and  in  perfect  silence  it  was 
thrown  across  Cedar  Greek,  marched  around  the 
mountain  to  the  east  of  our  line,  and  as  far 


36 


north  as  the  center  of  the  8th  corps,  coining 
into  the  Valley  by  a  pass  between  two  moun¬ 
tains.  Here  the  main  army  rested,  while  strong 
detachments  were  sent  forward  to  capture  our 
picket  line,  which  was  stationed  just  at  the 
mouth  of  this  pass.  From]  some  of  the  men 
captured  on  the  picket  line  they  extorted  the 
countersign,  which  gave  them  easy  access  to  all 
the  posts.  A  Confederate  captain  dressed  in 
the  uniform  of  a  Union  officer,  would  go  south 
along  our  picket  line  as  if  to  relieve  the  posts. 
When  challenged  by  the  picket,  “Who  goes 
there  he  would  answer  promptly  in  the 
usual  manner,  “A  friend  with  the  counter¬ 
sign, which  he  would  give  on  further 
demand.  Then  he  informed  each  guard  that 
the  army  was  preparing  to  move;  that  he 
had  orders  as  officer  of  the  guard  to  bring  in  all 
the  pickets.  Utterly  ignorant  of  the  scheme 
that  was  being  played  upon  them,  our  men  did 
not  suspect  the  officer  until  they  found  them¬ 
selves  within  the  enemy’s  lines  and  received  the 
surprising  information  that  they  were  prison¬ 
ers.  In  this  treacherous  manner  all  our  picket 
posts  along  the  east  side  of  the  Valley  were 
captured,  after  which  the  Confederate  army 
was  formed  into  line  of  battle  ready  to  move 
silently  and  swiftly  up  on  Sheridan’s  unsuspect¬ 
ing  troops.  Early’s  plan  was  first  to  attack  our 


37 


!  t)  U- 

right  wing,  expecting  that  Sheridan  would 
move  the  left  wing  across  the  Valley,  to  the 
support  of  the  6th  corps,  which  would  make  it 
an  easy  matter  for  Early  to  swing  his  army 
across  the  Valley  and  thus  completely  surround 
Sheridan,  which  would  make  the  capture  of  his 
army  an  easy  and  certain  victory. 

The  close  proximity  of  the  enemy  led  Sheri¬ 
dan  to  observe  the  greatest  caution  in  all  his 
movements,  and  in  order  to  guard  against  sur¬ 
prise  lie  had  issued  orders  that  one  corps  of  his 
army  should  be  under  arms  and  in  line  of  battle 
every  morning  from  3  o’clock  until  daylight.  On 
this  memorable  morning  the  19tli  corps  were 
routed  out  at  3  o’clock,  drawing  from  the  men 
much  grumbling  and  many  remonstrances 
against  the  outrage  which  was  thus  perpetrated 
upon  them  by  depriving  them  of  the  sleep  they 
so  much  needed,  because,  so  far  as  they  could 
see,  there  was  no  enemy  near,  and  they  consid¬ 
ered  the  whole  arrangement  a  piece  of  foolish¬ 
ness.  Poor  fellows!  they  little  knew  how  near 
Hie  death-dealing  guns  of  the  enemy  were  to 
them  at  that  moment,  and  that  ere  long  many 
of  them  would  take  their  places  in  that  line  of 
battle  for  the  last  time. 


38 


CHAPTER  IV. 


A  Dream  and  a  Rude  Awakening — The  Battle 
of  Cedar  Creek — -Out  on  the  Skirmish  Line — 
Captured  by  the  Rebels — Our  Army  Driven 
Back — Sheridan  Arrives  and  Whips  Early — 
Our  Suspense — Start  Southward — Suffering 
Begins' — Robbed  by  Rebel  Guards — Yankee 
Sharpers. 

Just  asithe drums  were  beating  the  “long  roll” 
that  morning  I  was  in  dreamland.  I  dreamed 
that  I  was  in  a  large  three-story  brick  building 
in  which  I  was  wandering  around  in  a  dazed 
condition,  but  could  find  no  way  out  of  it.  I 
tried  to  open  the  doors  but  they  would  not  yield 
to  my  frantic  efforts.  One  after  another  I  tried 
the  windows,  but  with  no  better  success.  I 

thought  I  could  see  across  the  valley,  and  on  the 
opposite  side  were  great  heaps  of  bread,  but  I 
was-  powerless  to  free  myself  from  the  awful 
depths  of  that  building  to  go  to  it.  Finally, 
after  a  long  time,  during  which  I  became  wild 
with  fear  and  faint  with  hunger,  I  found  a  door 
which  was  standing  ajar.  I  pushed  it  open, 
walked  out  and  started  towards  the  bread,  but 


39 


before  I  reacheu  _  became  very  thirsty.  Then 
I  began  to  search  for  water.  I  soon  found  a 
stream  and  lying  flat  on  the  ground  began  to 
drink.  I  thought  I  drank  the  stream  dry.  Just 
at  this  moment  I  was1  awakened  by  the  roll  of 
the  drums,  the  orders  of  the  officers  and  the  con¬ 
fusion  of  the  men  as  they  once  more  fell  into 
line.  I  then  laughed  at  the  remembrance  of  my 
dream,  but  the  time  was  not  far  distant  when 
all  the  minutiae  of  that  dream  became  vastly 
too  real  in  my  experience — too  terrible  for 
laughter.  It  is  said  that  “dreams  go  by  contra¬ 
ries),”  but  my  dream  is  one  instance  which  had 
an  almost  literal  fulfillment,  so  literal  and  real 
that  the  memory  of  what  followed,  even  as  I 
write  these  words,  almost  chills  the  blood  in  my 
veins. 

Daylight  having  come  and  no  enemy  being  in 
sight,  we  had  just  stacked  arms  preparatory  to 
getting  breakfast,  when,  to  our  surprise,  firing 
commenced  on  our  right  wing  where  the  6th 
corps  was  in  position.  The  approach  of  the  enemy 
was  so  stealthy  and  the  attack  so  unexpected, 
that  but  few  of  the  men  in  that  corps  were  out 
of  their  beds.  The  19th  corps  sprang  for  their 
arms  and  awaited  orders.  General  confusion 
prevailed  all  through  the  army.  It  soon 
became  apparent  that,  for  the  present  at  least, 
the  6th  corps  was  the  center  of  attack.  Major 

40 


General  Wriglit,  who  was  in  command  of  the 
Union  forces,  came  riding  along  the  line  of  the 
19th  corps  and  at  once  ordered  a  detail  of  sharp¬ 
shooters  to  deploy  across  the  valley  to  the  east 
and  if  they  found  no  enemy  to  go  south  until 
they  were  tired  on,  or  until  they  uncovered  the 
enemy’s  position.  I  was  one  of  that  detail  of 
sharpshooters  who  started  that  morning  on  our 
perilous  reconnoissance.  We  marched  in  silence 
eastward  to  the  base  of  the  mountain,  when,  to 
our  dismay,  we  were  in  the  very  presence  of  the 
rebel  army  and  heard  the  ominous  order,  “Sur¬ 
render!”  Knowing  the  great  responsibility 
which  rested  upon  us  for  the  safety  of  the  army, 
and  knowing  that  to  surrender  then  would  be 
equivalent  to  surrendering  our  forces  to  the 
enemy,  and  with  almost  certain  death  staring  us 
in  the  face  if  we  did  not  surrender,  we  chose 
the  alternative  of  death  by  firing  into  the  ranks 
of  the  enemy,  almost  at  point  blank  range.  The 
rebels  returned  our  fire  with  deadly  effect,  and 
those  who  were  not  killed  were  speedily  cap¬ 
tured.  But  the  single  volley  we  fired  told  Gen¬ 
eral  Wright  that  the  enemy  was  near  at  hand. 

The  battle  now  began  in  dead  earnest.  Our 
right  wing  was  driven  back  and  the  main  attack 
was  then  made  against  the  center  of  the  19th 
corps,  which  succeeded  in  holding  the  enemy  in 
check  until  the  6th  corps  fell  back  and  took  posi¬ 
tion  in  the  line.  In  this  first  attack  we  lost  1300 

41 


prisoners  and  28  pieces  of  artillery.  Onr  army 
was  driven  back  about  a  mile.  General  Wright 
was  severely  wounded  but  remained  on  the  field 
and  directed  the  movements  of  his  army  during 
the  terrific  assaults  of  the  enemy.  No  men  ever 
fought  more  bravely,  but  for  the  time  being 
they  were  fighting  against  odds  which  they 
could  not  overcome.  General  Wright  had  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  reforming  his  line  of  battle,  when 
General  Sheridan,  hatless  and  covered  with 
dust,  dashed  up  on  his  famous  black  charger, 
now  covered  with  white  foam.  The  presence  of 
Sheridan  inspired  the  army  with  new  hope  and 
courage  and  turned,  what  seemed  to  be  a  crush¬ 
ing  disaster  to  the  Union  army,  into  a  glorious 
victory.  This  great  achievement  of  wringing 
victory  out  of  the  very  jaws  of  defeat,  in  that 
eventful  battle  with  Early,  added  new  laurels  to 
the  fame  of  General  Sheridan,  and  will  live  in 
history  long  after  the  great  commander,  and  his 
famous  black  horse,  have  ceased  to  live. 

Two  newspapers,  one  published  in  the  South, 
the  other  in  the  North,  improved  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  that  battle,  especially  the  fact 
of  the  early  hour  in  which  it  began,  to  make  it 
the  occasion  of  some  sharp  and  witty  sparring. 
The  Atlanta  Constitution  took  occasion  to  say 
in  its  report  of  the  battle: 

“It  is  still  a  true  saying,  that;  the  Early  bird 

42 


SHERIDAN  AT  CEDAR  CREEK. 


43 


gets  the  worm.” 

To  which  the  St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat 
responded : 

“The  Early  bird  gets  the  worm,  and  he  also 
gets  his  Phil.” 

It  fell  to  my  sad  lot  to  be  one  of  the  sharp¬ 
shooters  captured,  as  already  stated.  We  were 
at  once  hurried  to  tire  south  side  of  Cedar  Creek 
where  we  were  corralled  with  many  others,  and 
from  which  point  we  could  see  all  the  move- 
men  ts  of  the  contending  armies,  until  our  forces 
had  been  driven  out  of  sight.  The  reader  may 
perhaps  be  able  to  imagine  the  anguish  we  felt 
in  seeing  our  brave  boys  driven  before  the  fierce 
assualt  of  the  desperate  enemy.  And  as  the 
cannonading  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  we  knew 
that  our  army  was  being  beaten,  if  not  entirely 
destroyed.  This  was  a  dark  hour  for  the  pris¬ 
oners,  but  an  hour  of  triumph  for  the  rebels, 
who  took  great  delight  in  tantalizing  us — boast- 
that  in  a  short  time  they  would  capture  the 
entire  Yankee  army.  However,  we  retorted  by 
telling  them  it  was  “a  long  lane  that  had  no 
turn,”  and  they  would  find  lots  of  fighting  Yan¬ 
kees  there  in  the  woods  that  were  not  yet,  and 
would  not  be  whipped.  I  remember  one  little 
upstart  of  an  officer  who  was  blowing  around 
what  they  had  done,  and  what  they  would  do 
with  us,  “barn-burners'”  and  “thieves,”  as  they 

44 


were  pleased  to  call  us.  Comrade  D.  W.  Con- 
nely,  of  my  Company,  told  him  he  had  better 
be  up  with  his  army,  as  they  would  need  him 
before  the  battle  was  over.  This  enraged  the 
little  dandy  and  he  threatened  to  shoot  Con¬ 
nelly  for  insulting  an  officer,  but  his  threats  had 
no  effect  upon  the  brave  man,  who  told  him  he 
had  better  reserve  his1  ammunition  for  the  Yan¬ 
kee  army,  for  without  a  doubt  they  would  be 
coming  back  that  way  about  noon,  as  they  had 
left  their  cooking  utensils  in  the  morning  and 
would  be  back  to  get  them  to  cook  dinner. 

At  this  time  fully  twenty  per  cent,  of  the 
rebel  army  were  engaged  in  the  work  of  pillag¬ 
ing  our  camps.  Our  men  were  compelled  to 
leave  everything  when  the  battle  began.  The 
6th  and  8th  corps  were  routed  out  of  bed  and  a 
large  number  of  the  men  succeeded  in  getting- 
only  their  guns  and  cartridge  boxes,  hence,  the 
rebel  foragers  and  stragglers'  had  a  rich  field 
from  which  to  gather  spoil.  After  they  had 
looted  the  camps  they  came  to  the  prisoners  and 
began  a  wholesale  robbery  of  those  helpless 
men,  taking  from  us  our  best  clothes,  money, 
valuables  and  every  metallic  article  we  had 
about  us,  “as  memorials  of  the  Yankees.”  While 
this  was  going  on,  Captain  W.  W.  Morseman,  of 
my  Company,  together  with  others,  were 
brought  in  as  prisoners.  He  had  on  a  very 

45 


good  pair  of  boots,  which  soon  attracted  the 
attention  of  a  rebel  Major,  who  walked  up  to 
him,  and  ordered  him  in  the  most  insulting 
language,  using  the  foulest  and  most  villianous 
epithets,  to  “get  out  of  them  boots.”  Captain 
Morseman  began  to  remonstrate  with  him,  tell¬ 
ing  him  that  he  had  been  captured  while  on 
duty  with  a  detail  guarding  private  property, 
and  thought  that  such  treatment  should  not  be 
visited  on  him.  The  Major  pulled  out  a  revol¬ 
ver  and  told  him  to  dry  up  and  get  out  of  them 
boots,  or  he  would  make  a  pepper-box  out  of 
him,  adding,  he  supposed  he  was  there  for  the 
purpose  of  burning  the  property.  Captain 
Morseman  reached  him  the  boots  and  informed 
the  rebel  Major  that  if  he  had  it  to  do  over  again 
he  would  burn  the  property  and  also  the  old 
hypocrite  who  lived  in  the  house. 

About  3  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  the  tiring 
began  to  grow  more  distinct.  The  tide  of  battle 
was  evidently  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  us. 
The  canonading  was  plainly  heard,  and  as  it 
became  more  distinct  to  our  wide-open  ears,  and 
fast-beating  hearts,  messengers  began  riding 
hither  and  thither,  and  we  could  read  in  the 
very  countenances  of  the  rebel  soldiers,  the  glad 
tidings  that  the  rebel  army  was  in  full  retreat 
before  the  Union  forces.  This  fact  inspired 
within  us  a  joyous  hope  that  an  opportunity 

46 


might  be  given  ns  to  stampede,  sieze  and  throt¬ 
tle  our  guards,  break  through  the  lines  and  fight 
our  way  back  to  freedom.  But  this  we  found  to 
be  impossible.  The. firing  became  more  distinct, 
and  in  a  short,  time  we  could  hear  the  rattle  of 
musketry.  All  was  confusion  and  excitement 
among  the  rebels  who  were  about  us.  Con- 
nely  asked  some,  of  them  what  was  up  over 
there  in  their  army,  adding,  “It  is  about  time 
our  boys  were  coming  back  to  dinner.”  Soon 
we  could  see  the  rebels  coming  from  every  direc¬ 
tion  at  a  break-neck  speed.  Orders  were  given 
to  move  the  prisoners  toward  Staunton.  We 
were  at  once  formed  in  line  with  guards  all 
around  us,  and  we|re  soon  on  our  way  south. 
Despondent  and  discouraged  as  we  were  on 
account  of  our  own  deplorable  condition,  we 
were  rejoiced  to  see  the  rebels  in  full  retreat 
before  our  victorious  troops.  We  could  hear 
our  guards  inquiring  of  those  who  had  left  the 
front,  how  the  battle  was  going.  They  were 
told,  and  we  heard  it  with  unspeakable  joy,  that 
it  was  such  a  stampede  as  is  rarely  witnessed. 
The  fighting  was  kept  up  all  the  day,  Early 
making  his  escape  under  cover  of  the  night. 
The  loss  of  my  regiment  in  this  battle  was  fifty- 
two  killed  and  wounded  and  twenty  taken 
prisoners. 

The  terrible  truth  began  to  dawn  upon  us  that 

47 


APPEARANCE  WHEN  CAPTURED,  WEIGHT  l8l  POUNDS. 


48 


we  were  destined  for  one  of  those  awful  prison- 
pens  of  the  South,  of  which  we  had  heard  so 
much.  Visions  of  Andersonville,  with  all  its 
horrifying  terrors,  haunted  us  by  day  and 
troubled  us  during  the  night.  We  continued  to 
march  until  about  midnight  when  we  were 
halted,  and  weary,  hungry  and  heart-sick  we 
threw  ourselves  on  the  ground  for  a  few  hours 
rest  and  sleep.  Several  of  the  prisoners  were 
wounded,  but  able  to  travel.  After  lying  on  the 
cold,  damp  bed  of  earth,  they  became  so  sore 
that  when  they  arose  they  could  scarcely  move. 
Next  morning,  October  20th,  we  were  ordered 
to  fall  into  ranks.  I  remember  one  poor  fellow 
whose  wound  pained  him  so  severely  that  he 
moaned  piteously  and  begged  them  to  shoot  him 
and  thus  put  an  end  to  his  sufferings.  Another 
man  who  was;  unable  to  move  because  of  his 
wounds,  was  left  lying  on  the  ground.  I  do  not 
know  what  became  of  him,  but:  as  he  was  lying 
near  the  road,  I  suppose  he  was  picked  up  by  our 
troops,  if  he  was  not  dispatched  by  the  rebels. 

The  rout  of  the  rebel  army  being  complete, 
we  were  in  ranks  very  early  and  resumed  the 
retreat  southward.  An  attempt  was  made  by 
the  prisoners  for  the  purpose  of  making  an 
.  attack  on  our  guards,  hoping  thereby  to  throw 
them  into  confusion,  during  which  we  could 
disarm  them  and  make  our  escape.  We  had 


49 


reason  to  believe  that  our  army  was  still  in  pur¬ 
suit  of  Early  and  if  once  at  liberty  it  would  be 
an  easy  matter  to  rejoin  our  own  troops,  but 
before  our  plans  were  perfected,  the  guards,  in 
some  way,  became  apprised  of  our  purpose. 
Immediately  the  guards  were  reinforced  and 
orders  were  given  strictly  forbidding  any  pris¬ 
oner,  under  any  pretense  whatever,  to  leave  the 
road.  This  order  was  accompanied  with  the 
cheerful  information  that  any  man  violating  it 
would  be  shot  down  in  his  tracks.  The  guards 
marched  in  parallel  lines!  with  the  prisoners, 
about  twelve  feet  away,  and  so  close  to  each 
other  that  it  was  impossible,  without  courting 
immediate  death,  to  make  any  attempt  to 
escape.  About  noon,  while  still  marching,  one 
of  the  prisoners  fell  asleep  and  stumbled.  In 
catching  himself,  to  keep  from  falling,  he  stag¬ 
gered  outside  the  road-line  and  realizing  the 
danger  he  was  in,  started  to  get  back  into  ranks, 
but  before  he  could  do  so,  a  guard  thrust  a  bay¬ 
onet  into  his  arm,  making  an  ugly  and  very  pain- 
ful  wound.  This  cruel  act  convinced  us  that 
the  villianous  rebels  meant  to  do  all  they  had 
threatened,  and  were  only  too  anxious  to  find  an 
excuse  to  execute  their  murderous  designs. 

Many  hours  having  passed  since  we  tasted 
food  of  any  kind,  we  were  becoming  faint  and 
weak  from  hunger.  The  marching  was  exceed- 

50 


ingly  difficult  and  painful.  We  were  required 
to  inarch  two  and  two,  in  closed  ranks,  and  as 
we  went  on,  the  road  seemed  to  get  narrower, 
making  it  exceedingly  difficult  for  men  who 
were  tottering  from  physical  weakness  and 
weariness,  to  keep  within  its  limits  as  we  were 
required  to  do  under  penalty  of  death.  As  we 
approached  Staunton  the  thievish  propensities 
of  our  rebel  guards  began  to>  develop  more 
shamefully.  Not  satisfied  with  the  robbery 
they  had  already  practiced  upon  us,  they  now 
began  to  strip  us  of  what  little  we  had  left. 
Blankets,  shoes,  hats,  and  everything  else  they 
coveted,  were  taken  from  us  at  their  own  pleas¬ 
ure.  Connely  and  myself  had  each  a  blanket 
and  a  piece  of  tent  cloth,  and  during  one  of  our 
halts  we  rolled  the  two  pieces  of  shelter-tents 
together  as  closely  as  possible,  then  wrapped 
one  of  the  blankets  about  them.  The  second 
blanket  we  mutilated  as  much  as  possible,  with¬ 
out  entirely  destroying  it,  to  make  it  appear 
worthless  in  the  eyes  <  of  our  covetous  friends. 
This  we  wrapped  around  the  good  blanket  and 
pieces  of  tents,  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  it 
appear  as  worthless  as  possible — in  fact,  a  veri¬ 
table  specimen  of  “hard-scrabble,”  which  even 
a  rebel- thieving  guard  would  scorn  to  pick  up. 
By  this  sharp  bit  of  Yankee  ingenuity  we  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  deceiving  the  Johnnies,  and  saved  our 
tents  and  one  good  blanket  which  I  have  always 

51 


£ 

felt  was  the  means  of  saving  lour  lives  during 
the  long  months  of  exposure  and  hardship 
which  followed.  But  this  was  not  all.  We  saw 
that  the  rebels  took  an  especial  fancy  to  the  hats 
and  shoes  worn  by  the  prisoners,  and  whenever 
an  opportunity  offered  they  did  not  hesitate  to 
appropriate  them  to  their  own  use.  My  witty 
comrade,  Connely,  did  not  relish  the  idea  of 
entering  Staunton  in  such  an  undress  condi¬ 
tion  as  he  would  be  if  he  was  hatless  and  shoe¬ 
less,  so  he  improved  the  first  opportunity  he  had 
to  cut  holes  in  his  hat  and  in  the  uppers  of  his 
shoes,  thus  mutilating  them  so  badly  that  the 
rebels  would  not  want  them.  When  one  of  the 
guards  discovered  what  he  had  done,  he  asked 
him  why  he  had  cut  his  shoes  in  such  a  manner. 
He  jreplied:  “So  they  will  not  hurt  my  feet  in 
walking.”  He  then  asked  him  why  he  had  cut 
such  large  holes  in  his  hat.  He  again  replied: 
“To  give  a  free  circulation  of  air,  so  my  head 
will  be  cool.”  However,  his  answers,  while  very 
ingenious,  did  not  undeceive  the  rebel.  He  knew 
why  he  had  mutilated  them  and  emphasized 
that  knowledge  by  furiously  cursing  him  and 
threatening  to  put  a  hole  in  his  head  that  would 
be  more  effective  in  keeping  it  cool  than  the 
holes  lie  had  cut  in  his  hat.  After  the  guard 
got  tired  cursing  him  and  left,  I  said  to  Con¬ 
nely,  “Your  Yankee  genius  has  saved  your  hat 


52 


and  shoes,  but  it  has  brought  curses  down  upon 
your  head.”  “Yes,”  said  he,  laughing,  “but  to 
be  barefoot  and  bareheaded  would  be  worse  than 
his  curses.” 


53 


CHAPTER  V. 


Our  Second  Night  in  Captivity — Encouraging(?l 
Announcement  from  a  Drunken  Rebel — Con 
nely  in  Danger — Hungry  and  no  Food — A 
Generous  Comrade — More  Robbery  by  the 
Guards  —  Richmond  —  Southern  Deviltry  • — 
The  Brutality  of  Rebel  Soldiers — Libby 
Prison. 

About  sundown  we  were  halted  for  the  night, 
more  faint  with  hunger  and  weary  from  march¬ 
ing  than  ever.  Not  a  bite  of  anything  have  we 
had  since  about  4  o’clock  of  the  morning  of  the 
19th,  and  even  that  meal  was  scanty,  having 
been  cut  short  by  the  opening  of  the  battle. 
Our  march  has  been  over  a  dry  and  dusty  road. 
The  rebels  appropriated  all  our  canteens,  so  we 
have  been  unable  to  get  a  drink  of  water,  only 
as  their  good  pleasure  saw  fit  to  grant  us  the 
boon,  which  was  very  seldom.  Before  Connely 
and  I  had  retired  for  the  night  an  officer  cpe 
through  the  corrall  where  we  were  herded,  and 
began  a  tirade  of  abuse  against  the  prisoners, 
ending  it  with  declaring  the  awful  punishment 
the  Confederate  authorities  intended  to  inflict 


54 


upon  us  for  burning  the  Valley.  He  said  we 
would  be  put  in  Libby  prison,  and  if  Jeff.  Davis 
did  not  order  it  burned  down,  he  would  set  fire 
to  it  himself.  That  was  the  punishment  we 
deserved  and  he  would  personally  see  to  it  that 
it  was  meted  out  to  us  in  all  the  length  and 
breadth,  height  and  depth  of  its  just  propor¬ 
tions.  Great  is  Southern  chivalry! — especially 
when  full  of  whisky  and  in  the  presence  of  help¬ 
less  prisoners.  After  this  encouraging  announce¬ 
ment  of  the  awful  doom  which  awaited  us,  he 
commenced  talking  about  the  war  in  general, 
and  expressed  his  opinion  that,  instead  of 
disaster  they  were  now  winning  an  overwhelm¬ 
ing  victory.  Connely  made  bold  to  ask  him 
how  long  he  thought  they  could  hold  out?  His 
answer  was:  “Until  h — 11  freezes  over.”  Oon- 
nely  then  asked  him  why  they  stripped  our  dead 
on  the  field  of  battle,  and  the  prisoners  they 
captured?  His  explanation  was,  because  the 
Federal  army  could  get  clothing  from  foreigr 
countries,  “but,”  said  he,  “our  government  is 
shut  off  and  can’t  negotiate  with  foreign  pow¬ 
ers;  consequently  we  are  compelled  to  rob  the 
dead  and  prisoners  to  clothe  our  armies.”  Con¬ 
nely  repeatedly  emphasized  the  words,  “Our 
Government,  Our  Government!  Why,”  said  he, 
“you  have  no  Government,  nor  will  you  ever 
have  one.”  This  so  enraged  the  drunken  officer 

55 


MY  CHUM,  D.  W.  CONNELY. 


56 


that  he  pulled  out  a  revolver  and  snapped  it  at 
Connely,  but  it  failed  to  go  off,  and  while  he 
was  making  ready  to  try  it  again,  I  shoved  Con 
nely  in  among  the  crowd  of  prisoners,  where  he 
was  soon  lost  from  his  would-be  murderer.  Had 
it  not  been  for  the  failure  of  the  rebel’s  pepper¬ 
box  to  fire,  I  fear  my  brave,  but  somewhat  rash, 
chum  would  have  been  killed.  I  ventured  to 
suggest  to  Dave  that  he  had  better  keep  a  pad 
lock  on  his  mouth  when  he  was  talking  to  a 
drunken  rebel  officer,  but  he  only  laughed  and 
said,  “I  am  like  a  woman,  bound  to  have  my 
say,  let  the  consequences  be  what  they  may.” 

We  lay  down  for  the  night,  and  rather  than 

run  the  risk  of  exposing  our  good  blanket  and 

pieces  of  tents  we  did  without  them,  although 
the  night  was  very  cold  and  we  suffered  a  great 

deal.  Forty-eight  hours  have  now  passed  since 
we  had  anything  to  eat,  and  from  all  appear¬ 
ances  we  are  likely  to  go  forty-eight  more  in  the 
same  condition.  Our  sufferings  are  indescrib 
able.. 

October  21st.  Another  dreary,  dismal,  toil¬ 
some  day  has  dawned.  Nature  is  robed  in  all  her 
matchless  beauty;  the  air  is  sweet  and  balmy; 
the  woods  are  musical  with  the  songs  of  bird? 
and  fragrant  with  the  perfume  of  myriads  ol 
beautiful  flowers.  But  even  the  beauty  of 
Nature  fails  to  minister  hope,  comfort  and 

57 


strength  to  weary,  hungry  men  who  are  on  their 
way  to  weeks  and  months  of  still  greater  priva¬ 
tion,  and  suffering.  The  early  morning  saw  us 
again  in  our  accustomed  places  in  the  line, 
ready  to  take  up  our  march.  We  received  the 
usual  instruction  to  keep  the  middle  of  the  road. 
Here  we  received  the  first  encouraging  informa¬ 
tion  wehavehad  since  we  were  captured,  namely 
that  when  we  reached  Staunton  we  would  receive 
rations.  This  was  indeed,  joyful  news  and  had 
a  tendency  to  raise  our  spirits  and  inspire  us 
with  new  hope.  But  even  that  humane 
announcement  was  accompanied  with  the  unhu- 
mane  one,  “You  ought,  not  to  have  any;  you 
justly  deserve  to  starve  to  death.”  Well,  that 
might  be  their  opinion,  for  which  we  did  not  care 
a  fig,  because  we  knew  they  were  too  cowardly 
to  put  it  into  execution.  We  reached  Staunton 
between  9  and  10  o’clock  in  the  morning.  I 
was  so  nearly  exhausted  I  at  once  sat  down  to 
rest.  According  to  the  promise  made  us,  they 

undertook  to  issue  rations  to  the  prisoners,  bui 

% 

such  confusion  prevailed  that  they  failed  to  do 
it  decently  and  in  order.  It  was  a  time  when 
might  prevailed,  and  men — hungry,  famishing 
men — forgot  the  sacred  rights  ofj  those  who 
were  equally  hungry  and  worthy.  The  cracker 
barrels  were  rolled  among  the  crowd  and  the 
strongest  got  the  lion’s  share.  I  saw  the  awful 

58 


struggle  which  was  going  on  among  the  hungry 
men  to  reach  the  food,  goaded  on  to  desperate 
efforts  to  get  all  they  could,  not  knowing  when 
they  would  get  any  more.  Weak  as  I  was,  I 
concluded  it  was  useless  for  me  to  struggle  with 
that  crowd,  and  choose  to  starve  rather  than 
run  the  risk  of  being  trampled  to  death.  While 
viewing  the  scene  of  confusion  with  disgust,  and 
yet  with  pity,  Connely,  noble  fellow  that  he  was, 
approached  me  with  a  handful  of  crackers, 
which  he  promptly  divided  with  me,  saying,  “It 
is,  equal  to  a  cyclone  to  get  into  such  a  conflict 
as  that.”  We  ate  the  crackers,  which  were  of  a 
very  poor  quality,  but,  kind  reader,  do  not  imag¬ 
ine  for  a  single  moment  that  we  did  not  relish 
them.  No  meal  that  I  had  ever  eaten  in  the 
past  was  eaten  with  such  relish  and  enjoyment 
as  those  spoiled  crackers,  which  composed  our 
dinner  in  thef  city  of  Staunton,  Virginia,  about 
the  hour  of  noon  of  October  21st,  1864,  after  a 
fast  lasting  from  the  early  morning  of  the 
19th,  during  which  interval  we  had  been  march¬ 
ing  hard  all  day  and  lying  on  the  bare  ground  at 
night.  We  were  not  so  particular  about  the 
quality  as  we  were  anxious  about  the  quantity 
of  the  food,  for  the  quantity  was  just  about  sufld- 
•  cient  to  aggravate  our  appetite  and  tantalize  us 
with  the  memory  that  up  yonder  in  “God’s 
country”  “hard  tack  and  sow  bosom”  were 
plenty  and  to  spare. 


59 


After  we  had  finished  our  first  meal  as  guests 
of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  and  while  we  were 
waiting  for  coffee  and  cigars  to  come  (in  which 
expectation  circumstances  beyond  the  control 
of  our  generous  hosts,  doomed  us  to  disappoint¬ 
ment),  we  were  loaded  into  stock  cars  and  were 
soon  speeding  on  our  way  to  visit  the  Honorable 
Jefferson  Davis,  President  of  the  Southern  Con¬ 
federacy,  in  the  celebrated  city  of  Richmond. 
Old  Jeff,  presumably  not  knowing  that  so  many 
of  us  were(  on  our  way  to  visit  him,  failed  to  send 
palace  hog  cars  enough  for  our  comfortable 
transportation,  hence,  we  were  crowded  until 
there  was  scarcely  room  to  stand  with  comfort. 
After  being  loaded  into  the  cars  new  guards 
took  charge  of  us.  This  change  was  made  the 
occasion  for  a  new  onset  of  pillage  and  robbery 
of  the  already  twice-robbed  prisoners.  These 
new  guards  seemed  to  be  of  a  higher-toned  order 
than  the  other  fellows.  While  they  would  not 
hesitate  to  take  anything  they  could  find  loose, 
or  could  succeed  in  unloosing,  yet  money- - 
Greenbacksi,  Gold,  Silver — seemed  to  be  their 
principal  game.  Not  finding  much  of  that 
article  among  the  prisoners,  they  soon  fell  back 
on  what  few  hats,  coats,  shoes,  etc.,  were  left-  - 
in  many  instances  the  villainous  scoundrels 
taking  even  the  photographs  of  our  loved  ones 
at  home,  which,  of  course,  were  of  no  use  what- 

60 


ever  to*  them,  only  as  it  helped  to  make  their 
torture  of  helpless  men  the  more  bitter  and 
unbearable.  Those  of  the  prisoners  who  chanced 
to  have  money  resorted  to  every  means  they 
could  invent  to  save  it. Some  hid  it  in  different 
parts  of  their  clothing;  some  under  the  soles  of 
their  shoes;  others  would  take  a  bill,  chew  it  up 
so  that  it  would  pack  closely  1,  then  lifting  the  top 
off  a  brass  button  would  deposit  it  there,  replace 
the  cover,  fastening  it  down  carefully  so  as  not 
to  attract  attention,  hoping  in  this  way  to  save 
it.  But,  alas!  as  will  be  seen  farther  on,  even 
this  Yankee  trick  failed  to  escape  the  sharp 
eyes  and  greedy  maws  of  the  rebel  thieves. 

About  2  or  3  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  we 
reached  Richmond,  were  unloaded  and  formed 
into  ranks  preparatory  to  being  reviewed  by  the 
citizens  who  had  been  apprised  of  our  coming 
and  were  anxious  to  inspect  the  Yankees.  While 
undergoing  the  critical  scrutiny  of  these  excel- 
lent(?)  citizens  of  the  Confederacy,  and  every 
moment  expecting  cards  of  invitation  to1  Sine 
with  his  royal  nibs,  President  Davis,  we  were 
ordered  to  march — and  march  we  did.  We  con¬ 
tinued  our  march  through  the  city  until  we 
reached  a  large  three-story  brick  building,  on 
one  corner  of  which  was  a  sign  which  read: 

“LIBBY  AND  SONS,  SHIP  CHANDLERS 
AND  GROCERS.” 


61 


We  then  awoke  to  the  /realization  that  we 
were  about  to  enter  that  infamous  place  of 
torture  known  as  “Libby  Prison.” 

On  our  march  from  the  depot  to  the  prison 
we  were  escorted  by  two  lines  of  Richmond  citi¬ 
zens,  embracing  all  sexes,  ages  and  classes,  each 
and  every  one  of  yvhom  were  doing  their  very 
best  to  entertain  us  with  such  choice  and 
encouraging  words  as  these: 

“Say,  you  Yankee  sons  of  b - s,  what 

you’uns  want  to  yun  off  our  niggers  for?” 

“Oh,  is  these  the  kind  of  brutes  that  has  come 
down  here  to  kill  our  noble  sons?” 

“Say,  Yank,  where  is  your  arms?  Ho,  you 
bluebellies,  where  is  the  rest  of  you’uns?” 

The  women  would  hiss  at  and  spit  upon  us, 
and  ask  us  if  we  (would  burn  down  Richmond  as 
we  did  the  Valley?  While  on  this  eventful 
march,  we  found  one  woman  whom  we  took  to 
be  a  friend — she  was  either  that  ,or  a  vicious 
foe,  whose  scheme  to  poison  us,  if  she  had  such 
a  scheme,  failed.  This  woman  reached  out  a 
loaf  of  bread  to  Connely,  who  was  nearest  to 
her,  which  he  readily  took.  Oliver  Crocker,  of 
Company  “I,”  remarked  to  him,  “Connely,  that 
bread  may  be  poisoned.”  Connely  replied,  “All 
right,  Crocker,  to  die  by  poison  is  preferable  to 
starve  to  death,  and  a  good  deal  shorter  and 

62 


pleasanter  route  to  go  out  on.”  He  broke  the 
loaf  of  bread  in  three  pieces,  giving  one  piece 
to  Crocker,  one  to  me,  keeping  the  third  piece 
himself.  He  said,  “Let  us  eat  it;  if  it  kills  us  it 
is  poisoned;  ,if  it  does  not  kill  us  we  will  give  the 
woman  credit  for  being  a  friend  to  the  Union 
soldiers.”  We  ate(  it  and  still  lived,  so  the 
woman  was  undoubtedly  a  friend  to  the  men 
who  had  fought  bravely,  were  captured  and  now 
suffered  all  manner  of  torture  and  insult  from 
these  devils  in  human  shape. 

When  we  arrived  at  Libby  Prison  we  were 
ordered  to  march  in,  at  the  same  time  receiving 
the  encouraging  and  helpful  information  that 
we  would  “catch  h — 11”  before  we  got  out  of 
there;  that  we  were  to  be  roasted  for  burning 
the  .homes  over  defenseless  women’s  heads  in 
the  V alley.  Our  devastation  of  the  Valley 
seemed  to'  be  the  uppermost  thought  in  the 
minds  of -  both  soldiers  and  civilians,  and  fur¬ 
nished  the  excuse  for  all  planner  of  insults  and 
threats  of  vengeance  from  men,  women  and  chil¬ 
dren.  As  the  last  of  our  column  was  marching 
in  through  the  wide  door  way,  Charley  Bowen, 
a  member  of  Company  “K,”  of  my  regiment, 
being  the  last  one,  was  seized  by  the  shoulders 
by  a]  great,  big,  burley  .specimen  of  humanity, 
jerked  back  and  ordered  to>  pull  off  his  jacket 
and  trousers,  or  he  would  shoot  him  on  the  spot. 


63 


At  this  moment,  another  guard  stepped  in  the 
doorway  ahead)  of  him,  thrust  his  bayonet 
at  him,  and  ordered  him  to  obey.  There 
being  no  relief  for  him  he  was  forced  to 
comply  with  this  fiendish  order.  ,  He  was  then 
pushed  inside  the  door  of  that  infernal!  prison, 
with  not  a  vestage  of  clothing  on  him  but  nis 
shirt,  drawers  and  socks — his  shoes  having  been 
taken  from  him  before  he  reached  the 
prison.  To  make  his  condition  the  more  pitiable, 
winter  was  approaching  and  no  covering  of  any 
kind  to  protect  him  from  the  cold  days  and 
nights  which  were  sure  to  come.  With  all  these 
facts  before  us,  who  will  dare  say  that  the 
Union  soldiers  were  engaged  in  fighting  chival¬ 
rous  and  brave  men?  No,  no!  We  were  fight¬ 
ing  fiends  in  human  form — things  having  the 
semblance  of  men,  but  who  were  guilty  of  deeds 
so  atrocious  and  inhuman  that  devils  would 
blush  for  shame. 


64 


CHAPTER  VI. 


i 

Robbed  Again — Unsuccessful  Attempt  to  Hide 
Our  Money — Prison  Rules — Corn  Dodger  at 
Last — Thoughts  of  Home — A  Sleepless  Night 
— Gray  backs  Galore,  and  Dirt  Supreme — The 
Prison  Doctor — Plans  for  Escape — A  Shot 
Fired,  but  no  Harm  Done. 

After  we  were  safely  inside  the  prison  walls, 
about  a  dozen  rebel  officers  came  in  and  divided 
up  our  batallion,  ordering  one-half  to  take  the 
second  floor,  and  the  other  half  to  occupy  the 
third  floor,  at  the  same  time  placing  guards  at 
the  stairway  leading  to  the  third  floor.  When 
this  arrangement  was  completed,  a  rebel  officer 
stepped  in  front  of  our  division,  with  a  revolver 
in  his  hand,  and  ordered  us  to  fall  into  two  lines 
across  the  building  at  the  same  time  announcing 
that  any  man  who  would  attempt  to  secrete 
any  money  or  other  valuables  he  might  possess, 
or  who  would  refuse  to  obey  any  orders  that 
should  be  given  him,  would  be  shot  down  like  a 
dog.  After  our  lines  were  formed  as  he  had 
directed,  we  were  next  informed  that  we  must 


65 


turn  over  all  the  money  and  valuables  we  had; 
that  he  would  take  down  our  names,  the  name 
and  number  of  our  regiment  and  company,  and 
when  we  were  exchanged,  all  valuables  would 
be  returned  to  us.  After  the  money  had  been 
turned  over,  they  then  began  to  search  our  cloth¬ 
ing.  Every  button  was  subjected  to  the  closest 
scrutiny  and  every  one  that  had  the  least  appear¬ 
ance  of  having  been  opened  was  cut  off,  the 
owner  being  asked  if  he  had  a  twenty  or  a  fifty 
dollar  bill  inside  of  it.  Those  whose  shoes  were 
left  to  them  had  those  articles  so  closely 
inspected  that  only  one  man  in  all  our  number 
s  ucceeded  in  saving  his  money — a  five  dollar 
bill  which  he  had  in  some  way  hid  in  his  shirt 
collar.  While  this  plundering  was  going  on, 
one  of  our  bbys  told  the  officers  if  they  would 
set  up  their  headquarters  nearer  the  front  they 
would  stand  a  better  show  of  obtaining  more 
plunder,  although  it  would  be  a  little  more  dan¬ 
gerous  over  there;  that  “to  the  victor  belonged 
the  spoils,”  or  at  least,  they  seemed  to  be  work¬ 
ing  on  that  system,  as  robbers  number  one  and 
two  had  had  the  lion’s  share  from  us,  leaving 
but  little  for  them  to  take.  After  they  had 
finished  going  through  our  division,  they  went 
up  stairs  and  repeated  the  same  mode  of  plun¬ 
dering  the  boys  there,  until  every  dollar  of  the 
money  which  they  had  thus,  far  succeeded  in 


66 


keeping,  had  passed  into  the  possession  of  our 
enemies.  One  man  on  the  third  floor  had  a  $20 
Confederate  bill.  He  told  the  plundering  officer 
that  was  all  the  money  he  had.  The  officer 
looked  at  him  in  a  pleasant  way  and  said : 

“If  that  is  all  the  money  you  have,  you  may 
keep  it,  poor  fellow.” 

We  well  knew  his  kindness  was  not  inspired 
by  any  love  he  had  for  the  “poor  fellow,”  but 
because  he  knew  the  miserable  bill  was  not 
worth  taking. 

But,  kind  reader,  do  not  judge  these  Confed¬ 
erate  robbers  too  harshly!  Let  us  all  be  chari¬ 
table  in  our  judgment  of  even  such  light-fingered 
gentry  as  these  were.  Perhaps,  after  all,  they 
were  doing  us  a  kindness  by  compelling  us  to 
practice  lessons  of  economy.  They  did  not  want 
us  to  spend  our  money  foolishly,  or  squander  it 
in  riotous  living.  But,  unfortunately  for  us, 
they  took  the  entire  matter  of  guardianship  into 
their  own  hands — we  did  not  have  a  single 
voice  in  the  selection  of  who  should  be  the  cus¬ 
todians  of  our  wealth — we  did  not  have  even  the 
right  of  veto.  We  were  all  tumbled  into 
“innocuous  desuetude.”  Mind  you,  dear,  inno¬ 
cent  reader,  they  sought  to  quiet  our  fears,  and 
alleviate  our  pain,  as  we  saw  seam  after  seam 
ripped  open,  patch  after  patch  torn  off,  shoe 
after  shoe  dissected,  button  after  button  uncov- 


67 


ered,  and  the  precious  “greenbacks^  which  they 
contained,  and  upon  which  we  had  built  such 
high  hopes  of  comparative  comfort,  transferred 
to  the  pockets  of  these  the  meanest  of  all  rob¬ 
bers,  by  telling  us,  on  the  honor  of  gentlemen  (?) 
that,  the  very  moment  we  started  towards  home 
again,  all  our  money  (they  did  not  promise  to 
pay  us  loan-brokers’  interest),  would  be 
returned  to  us  again.  But,  alas!  few,  if  any,  of 
those  noble,  brave,  heroic  sons  of  the  Confed¬ 
eracy  who  had  thus,  unsolicited,  and  out  of 
pure  benevolence,  become  our  guardians  for  the 
ent  when,  what  few  of  us  who  lived  to  return, 
started  homeward.  And  we  who  did  survive 
the  terrible  ordeal,  were  magnanimous  enough 
toward  our  southern  guardians  not  to  demand 
a  return  of  our  money,  because  their  banks,  at 
that  time,  were  in  sore  financial  straits — in  fact 
they  were  badly  and  irretrievably  busted.  We 
love  our  southern  guardians — indeed  we  do. 
May  their  breed  never  again  rise  up  to  curse  the 
earth  and  pollute  the  land. 

After  they  had  completed  their  work  of  rob¬ 
bery,  they  then  kindly  informed  us  concerning 
the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  Hotel  de  Libby. 
One  was,  that  to  indulge  in  the  simple  and  inno¬ 
cent  privilege  of  putting  an  arm  outside  a  win¬ 
dow,  or  to  stand  with  our  face  near  a  window, 
was  an  invitation  for  a  minnie  ball,  which 

68 


would  be  sure  to  come  from  the  rifle  of  a  guard. 
With  these,  and  some  other  friendly  (?)  sugges¬ 
tions,  they  left  us,  stating  we  would  probably 
get  a  bite  to  eat  before  night,  but,  as  they  were 
short  just  now  on  account  of  our  burning  the 
Valley,  we  must  put  with  what  we  got,  and  be 
thankful  for  it.  To  all  of  which  we  responded 
“Amen!”  and  bade  our  dear  guardians  “good 
night.” 

Our  first  morning  in  Libby  Prison  wTas 
gloomy  and  discouraging  enough.  Nearly  fam¬ 
ished  with  hunger — our  only  food  since  the  19th 
being  the  few  damaged  crackers  we  got  at 
Staunton;  our  money  all  appropriated  by  the 
rebel  officers;  our  clothing  all  gone — some  being 
left  with  nothing  but  their  underclothes— over 
half  of  our  number  hatless,  shoeless  and  blan¬ 
ketless,  and  all  this  robbery  haying  been  carried 
on  upon  helpless  prisoners,  by  men  who  pro¬ 
fessed  to  be  waging  a  war  for  human  rights, 
the  love  of  liberty  and  the  glory  of  God — well, 
it  is  enough  to  make  one  cry  out,  as  did  the 
spirit  in  Jean  Paul  Richter’s  Dream,  “Is  there 
no  God?”  We  soon  learned  that  among  the 
authorities  of  the  Confederacy  there  are  no  men 
— only  fiends. 

About  sundown  the  long-looked  for  rations 
came,  conspicuous  only  for  their  scantiness. 
This  evening’s  repast,  as  issued  to  us  by  the 

69 


prison  authorities,  consisted  of  a  piece  of  corn 
bread  about  three  inches  square,  and  not  to 
exceed  one  and  a  half  inches  thick.  On  this  we 
feasted  thankfully — and  rapidly.  It  did  not 
take  us  long  to  finish  supper  that  night.  Brutus 
asked  concerning  the  corpulency  of.  Causer: 

“Upon  what  meat  doth  this  our  Oaeser  feed 
That  he  hath  grown  so  fat?” 

Confident  we  are  that  unless  our  rebel  hosts 
become  more  generous  in  our  rations  of  meat, 
both  in  quantity  and  in  quality,  no  latter- 
day  Brutus  will  ever  be  troubled  with  such  a 
question. 

Being  very  weary,  Connely,  Crocker  and 
myself  laid  down  for  the  night  with  the  hope  of 
getting  some  sleep,  which  our  poor  iaded  bodies, 
weary  minds  and  sickened  hearts  needed  so 
much,  but  my  own  mind  was  too  much 
engrossed  with  perplexing  things  to  admit  of 
sleep.  My  thoughts  went  homeward  to  beloved 
ones  who  were  there.  No  doubt  by  this  time  the 
news  of  the  great  battle  and  my  capture  by  the 
rebels  had  reached  the  ears  of  my  dear  wife, 
who  was  even  then  mourning  for  me  as  dead. 
To  have  let  her  know  the  true  situation  in  which 
I  was  then  placed  would  be  to  her  worse  than 
death.  I  tried  to  console  myself  with  the  hope 
that  she  would  remain  ignorant  of  my  suffer¬ 
ings,  and  would  continue  to  pray  for  my  release 

70 


and  return.  But  relief  did  not  come  from  those 
musings.  Memories  of  my  aged  father,  my 
brothers  and  my  only  sister,  came  thick  and 
fast.  They,  too,  would  soon  learn  that  I  was 
listed  among  the  “Missing,”  and  in  their  sorrow 
and  despair  would  look  upon  the  darkest  side 
and  consider  me  dead.  But  would  honorable 
death  on  the  battle-field  present  a  “darker  side” 
than  the  insults,  the  wholesale  robbery,  the 
cruel  and  unnecessary  sufferings  to  which  I, 
with  my  noble  comrades,  had  already  been  sub¬ 
jected,  and  were  yet  to  come?  No — a  thousand 
times,  No!  Death  would  have  been  as  a  bright 
summer  morning  radiant  with  the  glory  of  the 
sunshine,  beautiful  as  a  garden  of  roses,  in  com¬ 
parison  to  the  conditions  under  which  I  was 
then  placed.  The  darkest  picture  that  the 
human  mind  could  possibly  paint,  might  have 
been  taken  from  that  first,  sad  night  in  Libby 
Prison,  as  we  lay  on  its  rought,  hard  floor, 
weary,  and  famishing  with  hunger,  trying  to 
drown  our  sorrows  in  blessed  sleep — which 
would  not  come. 

That  was  one  of  the  longest  nights  I  ever 
lived.  I  could  hear  the  guards  walking  their 
beats,  and  commenting  on  “the  catch  of  fresh 
fish”  which  they  had  succeeded  in  bringing  in. 
But  gloating  as  they  were  over  our  capture  and 
misfortunes,  they  were  not  happy  over  their  own 

71 


position  by  any  means.  The  battle  in  which  we 
had  been  captured  brought  no  joyful  tidings  to 
them.  They  could  not  understand  how  it  hap¬ 
pened  that  Early  allowed  his  army  to  be  so 
badly  whipped  after  he  had  routed  the  Yankees 
in  the  morning  and  driven  them  so  many  miles 
towards  Washington.  One  of  the  guards  con¬ 
fided  his  opinion  of  the  affair  to  another  guard 
in  the  following  expressive  language: 

“I  don’t  see  how  Early  could  get  himself 

whipped  so  d - d  bad  after  such  a  glorious 

victory  in  the  morning!” 

One  of  our  boys  who  was  standing  at  a  win¬ 
dow  and  overheard  this  choice  bit  of  conversa¬ 
tion,  yelled  out: 

“Say,  Johnnie,  I  can  tell  you;  Sheridan  just 
came  from  Winchester  and  lie  turned  the  battle 
against  Early!  No  flies  on  Phil,  I  tell  you!” 

This  retort  dried  up  the  conversation  between 
the  rebel  guards  about  the  “fresh  fish”  and 
Early’s  defeat  in  the  Y alley. 

With  the  close  of  a  long,  weary,  because 
sleepless,  night,  came  the  dawning  of  the  22nd 
of  October,  1864,  and  the  fourth  day  of  my  cap¬ 
tivity  in  rebellion.  Life  is  still  sweet,  but  the 
hunger  which  is  gnawing  like  the  grinding  of 
two  mill  stones,  with  no  wheat  in  the  hopper, 
is  exceedingly  bitter.  There  is  one  favor,  how¬ 
ever,  for  which  we  are  truly  thankful,  we  have 

72 


plenty  of  good  water.  A  daylight  survey  of  the 
building  in  which  we  have  taken  up  our  resi¬ 
dence  for  an  indefinite  period  of  time,  reveals 
some  conditions  which  are  not  so  easily  discov¬ 
ered  after  night.  For  instance,  I  find  that  it  is 
in  an  exceedingly  dirty  condition.  Evidently 
the  chamber-maid  forgot  to  bring  her  brooms, 
or,  perhaps,  chamber-maids  and  brooms  have 
ceased  to  be  a  part  of  the  retinue  of  Libby 
Prison.  Then,  that  peculiar  species  of  “song 
birds,”  or,  more  scientifically  speaking,  “scratch¬ 
ing  birds,  “known  to  the  orinthology  of  south¬ 
ern  prisons  as  “Graybacks,”  are  very  numerous 
and  seem  toibe  as  voracious  as  the  human  “gray¬ 
backs”  who  robbed  and  insulted  us  without  let 
or  hindrance.  As  between  the  two,  the  original 
“Grayback”  is  very  much  more  of  a  gentleman 
than  his  human  counterfeit. 

About  10  o’clock  this  morning  breakfast  was 
served  consisting  of  the  regulation  corn  bread, 
the  pieces  being  a  little  larger  in  length  and 
breadth,  but  somewhat  skimped  in  thickness, 
they  being  about  four  inches  square  and  one 
inch  thick,  so  taking  the  actual  number  of 
square  inches  in  each  piece,  there  was  a  slight 
advance  over  the  rations  of  yesterday  evening. 
Still  the  increase  was  scarcely  sufficient  to  make 
any  appreciable  improvement  in  their  ability  to 
satisfy  the  demand.  I  am  now  determined  to 

78 


make  as  muck  of  a  royal  feast  out  of  this  piece 
of  “dodger”  as  I  can.  Therefore,  I  select  my 
position.  I  sit  down  by  an  upright  post  in  the 
middle  of  the  building,  first  of  all  'spreading  out 
my  blanket  which  I  imagine  to  be  the  easy 
cushion  of  a  sumptuous  dining  hall  chair.  Then 
I  regulate  the  size  of  my  bites,  not  according  to 
the  craving  of  my  stomach,  but  according  to 
the  size  of  my  piece  of  “dodger”  in  ratio  to  the 
vacuum  it  is  destined  to  fill.  I  chew  very  slowly 
— not  wishing  to  impair  my  digestion — in  fact  I 
try  to  keep  each  bite  in  my  mouth  as  long  as 
I  can,  but  the  law  of  gravitation  inside  of  me 
seems  to  be  so  strong  that  it  is  all  I  can  do 
to  keep  the  bread  in  my  mouth  long  enough  to 
get  the  taste  of  it.  However,  dear  reader,  I 
must  say  that  this  ration  of  corn  bread  tastes 
sweeter  to  me  than  any  I  ever  ate  in  all  my  life 
before.  I  wish  there  had-  been  more  of  it  to 
relish. 

About  noon  the  prison  doctor  came  in  to  make 
his  daily  round  of  the  different  rooms.  The 
man  who  was  stabbed  in  the  arm  with  the  rebel 
guard’s  bayonet,  before  we  reached  Staunton, 
is  suffering  a  great  deal  from  his  cruel  wound. 
He  belongs  to  an  Ohio  regiment.  The  arm  is 
terribly  swollen  and  it  is  very  painful.  The 
doctor  gave  him  some  liniment  to  put  on  it.  Hd 
seems  to  be  a  kind-hearted  man,  and  freely  con- 

74 


demned  the  guard  for  his  brutality  in  stabbing 
the  man  under  the  circumstances.  There  are 
quite  a  number  of  sick  men  in  the  prison  but 
the  doctor  is  doing  his  duty,  and  honoring  his 
profession,  by  doing  all  in  his  power  for  their 
relief.  It  is  comforting  to  find  one  man  belong¬ 
ing  to  the  Confederacy  who  has  not,  as  yet, 
become  dehumanized.  It  is  to  be  hoped  this 
man  will  escape  the  contagion  of  brutality 
which  seems  to  be  so  universal  among  the  civil¬ 
ians  as  well  as  soldiers  of  rebeldom. 

A  drowning  man  is  said  to  catch  at  straws. 
The  more  desperate  and  hopeless  one’s  situa¬ 
tion,  the  more  vivid  and  active  are  one’s  mental 
anticipations  of  relief  from  distressing  condi¬ 
tions..  So  with  the  prisoners  in  Libby.  We 
know  that  we  are  confined  within  the  strong 
walls  of  an  immense  building  from  which  escape 
seems  to  be  impossible.  We  know  that  we  are  in 
the  clutches  of  a  cruel  and  relentless  foe  who 
will  not  only  guard  every  avenue  of  escape,  and 
visit  the  most  bitter  and  condign  punishment 
upon  any  who  dare  attempt  such  a  hazardous 
feat, — a  foe  who  will  close  his  ears  against  ah 
appeals  for  such  treatment  as  honorable  prison¬ 
ers  of  war  are  entitled  to,  as  well  as  against  all 
proposals  of  the  United  States  Government  for 
a  just  and  speedy  exchange  of  prisoners,  his  pur¬ 
pose  being  to  torture  the  prisoners  of  the  Fed- 


75 


eral  army,  whom  he  has  failed  to  kill  in  battle 
— yet,  notwithstanding  the  hopelessness  of  our 
situation,  the  all-absorbing  topic  of  our  conver¬ 
sation  by  day,  and  of  our  dreams  at  night,  is 
either  exchange  or  escape.  But  our  pleasant 
dreams  were  brought  to  a  sudden  awakening  by 
one  of  the  guards  shooting  at  a  man  whose  arm 
was  protruding  through  the  bars  of  the  win¬ 
dow.  He  was  holding  in  his  hand  a  handker¬ 
chief  which  he  had  washed  and  was  trying  to 
dry  by  holding  it  outside  the  window.  Fortun¬ 
ately  the  guard’s  aim  was  not  good  and  the  ball 
sped  wide  of  its  mark.  This  act  told  us.  that  all 
hopes  of  parole  or  exchange  from  such  a  foe,  was 
not  to  be  entertained. 

When  we  were  marched  into  the  prison,  all 
commissioned  officers  were  taken  from  the  ranks 
and  put  in  a  part  of  the  prison  by  themselves, 
but  we  were  ignorant  of  their  whereabouts. 
This  evening  two  Confederate  officers  came  into 
our  room  and  ordered  all  commissioned  officers, 
if  any  were  present,  to  step  to  the  front,  but  as 
none  obeyed  the  order,  the  officers  were  satis¬ 
fied  there  were  none  present. 

I  have  already  stated  that  we  had  breakfast 
about  10  o’clock,  A.  M.  We  waited  patiently 
and  hopefully  for  dinner,  but  none  came.  We 
then  looked  forward  with  eager  expectation  to 
the  supper  hour,  being  satisfied  to  accept  two 

76 


meals  a  day,  if  we  could  not  get  three.  But  the 
supper  hour  came  and  passed  and  still  no  wait¬ 
ers  hearing  platters  of  food  appeared.  The 
truth  then  began  to  dawn  upon  us  that  the 
Hotel  de  Libby  was  a  kind  of  sanitarium,  in 
which  they  served  only  one  meal  a  day,  and  that 
very  scanty  in  quantity,  and  not  much  to  brag  of 
jn  quality. 

Night  is  again  coming  on  and  I  shudder  at  its 
approach.  Not  many  weeks,  or  even  days,  ago 
I  welcomed  it  with  gladness  because  it  brought 
rest  to  the  body,  peace  to  the  mind — a  blessed 
recuperation  of  all  the  mental  and  physical 
powers.  But  now,  instead  of  sweet,  restful 
sleep,  the  long  and  dreary  hours  of  the  night  are 
spent  in  thinking  of  home  and  the  loved  ones 
there  whose  hearts  are  bleeding  because  of  the 
uncertainty  which  surrounds  my  fate.  And  I 
am  not  alone.  As  I  look  into  the  sad  and  hag¬ 
gard  faces  of  the  comrades  about  me,  I  know 
that  but  few  men  in  Libby  Prison  are  free  from 
the  harassing  thought  which  drives  “sleep 
from  our  eyes  and  slumber  from  our  eyelids.” 


77 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Our  Rations,  of  Dodger  Decreasing — Faulkner 
Must  Lose  His  Arm — Jeff  Davis  and  Lee 
Visit  the  Prison — Rumors  of  Exchange — Our 
Sufferings  on  the  Increase — “Why  Does  Out 
Government  Let  Us  Stay  Here?” — Change  of 
Doctors — An  Irishman’s  Retort — A  Great 
Calamity;  Our  Tobacco  all  Gone — The  Phil¬ 
osophy  of  Gray  backs — Poor  Food  and  Not 
Much  of  It. 

The  morning  of  October  23rd  was  ushered  in 
with  a  cold  drizzling  rain.  The  most  absorbing 
feature  of  our  prison  ,are  the  multitudes  of  gray- 
backs,  whose  principal  business  is  to  draw  all 
the  vitality  from  our  poor  bodies.  This  is  their 
principal  and  continual  occupation  during  the 
hours  of  the  night,  but  when  daylight  appears 
they  skedaddle,  like  their  human  prototypes,  the 
rebels,  for  their  hiding  places,  from  which  they 
watch  our  movements  and  prepare  for  a  more 
vigorous  assault  when  night  again  throws  her 
mantle  of  darkness  over  the  earth  and  thus 
hides  their  movements. 

78 


About  11  o’clock  the  squad  of  men  to  whom  is 
entrusted  the  distribution  of  our  daily  rations, 
was  ordered  tol  the  door  to  receive  our  corn 
dodger  which,  in  quantity  but  not  in  quality,  is 
about  the  same  as  yesterday.  While  the  rations 
were  being  distributed,  one  of  our  men  made 
bold  to  ask  a  rebel  guard  if  he  could  tell  him 
anything  about  our  chances  for  being 
exchanged  or  paroled,  pr  about  how  long  he 
thought  we  would  remain  guests  of  this  hotel. 
He  received  the  polite  and  characteristic 
answer: 

“You’uns  will  have  to  stay  here  until  h — 11  is 
froze  over,  and  you  might  as  well  keep  quiet 
about  it.” 

Our  rations  were  divided  as  usual,  and,  as 
usual,  are  just  enough  to  aggravate,  but  not 
appease  our  appetites.  The  quality  this  morn¬ 
ing  is  not  as  good  as  it  has  been,  the  cook 
having  allowed  the  bread  to  bake  heavy  and 
soggy — scarcely  more  than  half  baked — but  it 
is  licked  up  with  a  voracity  which  cares  little  for 
such  trifling  accidents.  This  morning  we  were 
compelled  to  admit  there  was  one  man  in  Libby 
Prison,  wearing  the  Union  Blue,  who  is  mean 
enough  to  disgrace  it,  and  render  himself  despic¬ 
able  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  prisoners,  by  his 
thievish  conduct.  While  the  rations  were  being 
distributed,  one  man  came  down  from  the  divis 

79 


ion  up  stairs,  stood  in  our  line,  and  got  a  ration 
of  bread  which  did  not  belong  to  him,  thus 
leaving  one  man  of  our  own  number  without 
any.  The  fellow  had  gone  back  before  we  found 
it  out,  so  the  rest  of  us  divided  our  share  with 
the  poor  fellow^  who  was  cheated  out  of  his 
scanty  ration.  We  vowed  among  ourselves  that 
we  would  guard  against  such  rascality  in  the 
future. 

The  doctor  did  not  make  his  rounds  toda\ 

until  after  12  o’clock.  One  of  our  bovs  was 

taken  very  ^ick  and  the  doctor  had  him  removed 

to  the  hospital,  which  is  across  the  street  but  a 

little  south  of  this  building.  Faulkner,  the  man 

with  the  wounded  arm,  is  very  bad  to-day.  The 

doctor  expressed  his  fears  that  the  arm  would 

have  to  be  amputated  to  save  his  life,  gangrene 

having  set  in.  ,  The  more  we  get  acquainted 

with  the  doctor  the  better  we  like  him.  He  is 

kind  and  gentlemanly  in  all  his  bearing  toward 

us.  He  freely  and  candidly  answers  our  eager 

questionings  concerning  the  probability  of  our 

exchange  or  parole,  but  is  unable  to  give  us  any 

reliable  information  on  the  subject.  Although 

% 

disappointed  in  our  expectations  of  receiving 
some  encouragement  and  hope  from  liim,  yet  we 
feel  grateful  for  his  kindness  and  appreciate  the 
generosity  of  his  treatment. 

Thisi  afternoon  we  were  treated  to  a  rare 

80 


privilege,  nothing  less  than  a  sight  of  the  high 
dignitaries  of  the  Confederacy.  His  royal  “nibs,” 
President  Davis,  accompanied  by  his  staff  and 
the  famous  General  Robert  E.  Lee,  commander 
of  the  rebel  army,  rode  by  our  prison,  looked  up 
at  the  windows,  and  seemed  to  take  great 
delight  in  seeing  the  fine  catch  they  had  already 
made.  From  all  appearances  they  were  well 
satisfied  and  rode  away. 

This  evening  a  ray  of  hope  beamed  in  upon 
ns  by  a  rumor  circulated  through  the  prison 
that  we  were  to  be  exchanged,  but  the  longer 
we  tried  to  hunt  up  the  authority  for  the  rumor, 
the  fainter  became  the  trail,  until  it  was  lost 
entirely  and  we  were  compelled  +o  fall  back 
upon  the  cheerless  task  of  trying  to  hope 
against  hope. 

October  (24th.  This  is  a  beautiful  morning. 
The  sun  is  shining  brightly  and  doing  his  best 
to  dispel  the  gloom  from  our  hearts  by  flooding 
our  prison  with  glorious  sunlight.  How  bright 
and  beautiful  the  world  which  lies  outside  our 
barred  windows  looks  to  our  weary,  longing 
eyes!  But  what  a  chill  comes  over  us  as  we 
turn  our  eyes  from  the  world  outside  to  the 
smaller,  but  none  the  less  conscious  and  sensi¬ 
tive  world  inside  the  prison  walls.  What  mys¬ 
terious  changes  have  taken  place  during  the  past 
few  days.  Only  six  days  ago  we  were  reveling  in 

81 


plenty  to  eat,  and  the  joy  of  association  under 
honorable  and  fraternal,  even  if  they  were  dan¬ 
gerous  conditions.  Now,  this  is  all  changed. 
Separated  from  companions,  weak  and  famished 
with  hunger,  in  the  clutches  of  a  foe  so  cruel  and 
inhuman  that  they  seem  to  take  supreme  delight 
in  torturing  and  insulting  us.  They  meant  very 
much  more  than  they  expressed,  when  they  told 
us  they  were  going  to  starve  us  to  death  here. 
How  Jong  can  mortal  flesh  endure  this  agony? 

Our  rations  were  served  to  us  again  as  usual, 
quantity  and  qaulity  being  about  the  same  as 
yesterday.  When  the  doctor  came  this  morning 
he  was)  besieged  on  every  side  by  men  eager  to 
gain  any  information  he  was  able  to  give  them 
on  the  all-absorbing  subject  of  exchange.  He 
received  our  importunities  with  great  patience 
and  kindness,  but  the  only  response  we  could 
elicit  from  him  was: 

“Cheer  up,  boys!  cheer  up,  boys!” 

This  was  all  he  would  say,  but  the  way  in 
which  he  said  it  led  us  to  believe  he  knew  more 
on  the  subject  than  ,he  dared  tell  us.  After  visit¬ 
ing  the  sick  he  ordered  Faulkner  to  go  with  him 
to  the  hospital,  his  arm  having  become  very 
much  worse.  This  visit  of  the  good  doctor,  and 
the  peculiar  manner  in  which  he.  expressed  him¬ 
self,  has  sent  new  blood  coursing  through  our 
veins  and  brought  new  hope  into  pur  lives. 


82 


Some  of  us  feel  that  that  there  must  be  some 
meaning*  in  the  look  .of  his  face,  the  flash  of  his 
eye  and  the  tone  of  his  voice,  while  others  say 
they  are  only  trying  to  awaken  within  us  false 
hopes  for  fear  that  we  will  become  mutinous 
from  desperation  and  hunger.  Of  course  every 
man  has  his  own  views  of  the  situation,  and 
does  not  hesitate  to  speak  freely  what  is  in  his 
mind. 

The  question  often  arises  as  to  why  our  gov¬ 
ernment  allows  us  to  remain  here,  subject  to 
such  torture  as  we  are  enduring?  Is  it  possible 
that  we  are  to  be  thus  rewarded  for  all  that  we 
sacrificed  when  we  responded  to  the  Nation’s 
call  for  help  in  the  hour  of  her  peril?  It  must 
be  that  President  Lincoln  is  entirely  ignorant 
of  the  treatment  we  are  receiving  as  prisoners 
of  the  rebel  Government,  because  if  he  was 
apprised  of  the  real  facts  he  would  either  order 
the  Union  armies  concentrated  and  Richmond 
crushed  at  a  single  blow,  or  else  he  would  see 
that  we  were  exchanged  at  once.  No,  no!  That 
greathearted  man  in  the  White  House  at  Wash¬ 
ington  would  not  allow  his  boys  to  perish  from 
starvation  at  the  hands  of  a  relentless  foe.  Oh, 
this  tortue  from  hunger  and  vermin  makes  life 
a  burden  which  cannot  be  endured  much  longer! 
We  cannot  rest  by  day  nor  sleep  by  night.  The 
walls  and  floors  are  literally  packed  with 

83 


vermin.  They  cover  our  clothing,  they  till  our 
hair.  They,  too,  are  prisoners;  hungry  as  we 
are;  like  us  in  every  respect,  except  this,  that 
while  they  can  and  do  feed  upon  us,  we  cannot 
feed  upon  them. 

October  25th.  Another  night,  long  and  lone¬ 
some,  has  passed,  and  another  day  (to  be)  long 
and  dreary  has  dawned.  I  had  a  dream  last 
night,  full  of  pleasure,  but  its  atvakening  was 
full  of  pain.  I  dreamed  that  I  was  at  home.  I 
could  see  it  in  all  its  , comforts  and  beauty,  just 
as  I  had  left  it  the  day  I  started  to  the  “front.” 
My  wife  was  getting  supper.  I  could  see  every 
movement  she  made  and  everything  she  did,  as 
plainly  and  vividly  as  sight  itself  could  make  it. 
I  thought  to  myself:  “Now  I  will  have  one  good 
meal — farewell  hunger  and  pain!”  But,  alas! 
just  as  wife  said,  “Supper  is  ready!”  and  I  went 
to  my  old  place  at  the  table,  I  awoke  to  find 
myself  in  a  veritable  rebel  hell,  hungry,  weary, 
and  with  every  bone  in  my  body  aching,  while 
the  graybacks  were  fighting  for  what:  little 
blood  is  yet  left  in  me.  While  I  lay  on  my  back 
meditating  on  the  future,  -a  ray  of  consolation 
came  to  me  in  this  way:  If  our  rations  do  not 
increase  our  flesh  will  soon  be  gone,  and  then 
our  enemies,  the  graybacks,  will  have  to  starve 
as  well  as  we.  O  revenge,  how  sweet  thou  art! 

A  great  calamity  has  befallen  the  prisoners, 

84 


both  tsick  and  well — our  kind-hearted,  humane 
doctor  has  been  taken  away  from  us,  and  in  his 
place  has  come  a  young,  dapper,  dandyish  fel¬ 
low,  evidently  endowed  with  about  as  much 
brains  as  a  third  grade  of  army  mules.  He  puts 
on  lots  fit  professional  airs;  tries  hard  to  look 
wise,  but  fails  to  make  us  believe  that  his 
wisdom  is  equal  to  his  vanity.  One  of  the  boy s 
so  far  forgot  himself  in  the  presence  of  this 
medical  prodigy  as  to  run  the  risk  of  asking  him 
if  he  could  tell  us  how  long  we  would  have  to 
stay  in  this  prison?  He  drew  himself  up  to  the 
full  height  of  his  stature  and  replied: 

“That,  sir,  will  depend  on  how  long  your  con¬ 
stitution  will  stand  it.” 

A  little  Irishman,  belonging  to  a  New  York 
regiment,  replied : 

“Say,  doctor,  if  you  will  furnish  us  with  a  ket¬ 
tle  to  boil  these  graybacks  in,  and  some  salt  to 
season  them  with,  we  will  be  here  to  scatter 
flowers  on  your  grave — bedad  we  will,  sir,” 

This  raised  quite  a  commotion,  which  was  fol¬ 
lowed  by  such  a  loud  burst  of  laughter,  that  the 
little  dandy  “pi Ill-bags”  went  flying  out  of  our 
room — no  doubt  swearing  vengeance  on  us  all. 

•  October  26th.  Another  day  has  dawned,  and 
the  same  routine  of  prison  life  has  to  be  gone 
over.  About  midnight  we  were  aroused  from 

85 


sleep  by  a  fire  in  the  west  part  of  the  city.  How 
extensive  it  was  we  could  not  tell..  That  It  was 
not  very  far  from  the  prison  we  were  sure, 
because  the  light  from  the  fire  illumined  the 
interior  as  well  as  the  exterior  of  the  building. 
We  were  cautioned  by  our  guards  not  to  get  too 
close  to  the  windows.  The  prison  authorities 
evidently  feared  if  the  fire  should  spread  we 
would  make  a  break  for  liberty.  To  prevent  this 
the  guards  were  reinforced,  and  stringent  orders 
for  our  safe-keeping  were  issued.  We  were  hoping 
that  the  fire  might  prove  to  be  extensive  enough 
to  involve  this  part  of  the  city,  and  seriously 
threaten,  if  not  actually  destroy  this  old  prison- 
house,  and  thus  give  us  a  chance  to  escape,  but 
to  our  chagrin  the  fire  was  stopped  before  it  got 
under  much  headway.  Our  organization  for 
escape,  if  an  opportunity  offers,  is  now  very 
complete,  and  we  were  all  on  the  watch  for 
some  movement  on  the  outside,  to  favor  our 
making  a  dash  upon  the  guards,  hoping,  if  once 
outside  the  prison,  to  reach  our  lines,  which  we 
knew  to>  be  east  of  Richmond.  At  2  o’clock  all 
was  quiet  and  we  went  back  to  our  hard  beds. 

A  great  calamity  befell  me  this  morning — I 
took  the  last,  chew  of  my  tobacco.  It  is  alt  gone 
and  no  means  of  getting  another  supply.  None 
but  those  who  have  undergone  the  experience 
can  tell  what  a  solaceand  comfort  tobacco  is  to  us 


86 


who  are  enduring  the  tortures  of  prison  life.  It 
really  allayed  the  pangs  of  hunger,  so  that  when 
we  were  deprived  of  our  tobacco  we  suffered  far 
more  than  we  would  Jiave  done  if  our  rations 
had  been  cut  short.  The  rations  we  received 
today  were  short  enough  to  satisfy  the  most 
rigid  advocate  of  abstemiousness.  However,  an 
addition  to  the  quantity  was  made  in  the  way 
of  giving  us  a  pint  of  what  they  called  “bean 
soup.77  It  consisted  of  one  black-eyed  pea  and 
two  spoonfulls  of  worms  in  about  a  pint  of 
water.  This  is  the  “standard77  bean  soup  of 
Libby  Prison.  But  we  are  losing  much  of  the 
fastidiousness  which  was  such  a  marked  char¬ 
acteristic  of  our  soldier-nature  before  we  began 
boarding  at  this  “hotel.77  We  are  now  perfectly 
content  to  adopt  the  doctrine  that  “what  won’t 
poison  will  fatten.77  Hence,  our  anxiety  is  not 
about  quality  but  quantity.  Whatever  will  help 
to  “fill  up”  is  received  with  thankfulness  and  no 
questions  asked.  When  the  life  is  being  slowly 
but  surely  starved  out  of  a  man,  anything, 
even  worms,  that  will  cheat  the  destroyer  and 
sustain  life,  is  appreciated  and  vigorously 
devoured. 

•  An  old  subject,  in  .somewhat  altered  form,  has 
appeared  and  is  furnishing  great  opportunities 
for  the  naturalists,  “bugologists,”  philoso¬ 
phers,  and  other  professionalists  among  the 


87 


prisoners,  viz:  the  history,  including  the 
habits,  origin,  customs,  propensities,  capa¬ 
bilities  and  general  character  of  the  “Gray- 
back.”  These  discussions,  and  the  organization 
of  regular  campaigns  for  their  extermination, 
affird  much  amusement  and  serve  to  pass 
away  many  of  the  dreary  hours  of  prison  life 
in  comparative  forgetfulness. 

October  27th.  How  slowly  and  drearily  the 
hours  of  the  night  through  which  we  have  come, 
dragged  by!  The  absence  of  my  tobacco  made 
me  sleepless  and  restless.  I  got  up  and  walked 
the  floor  until  I  became  so  tired  that  I  again 
laid  down  and  fell  into  a  kind  of  troubled  sleep. 
I  would  give  all  my  personal  interest  in  the 
Southern  Confederacy  tor  one  plug  of  tobacco, 
even  though  it  be  only  a  link  of  common 
“twist.”  Possibly  good  may  come  out  of  this 
privation,  after  all.  If  I  can  only  manage  to 
live  through  it,  I  may,  by  force  of  circum¬ 
stances,  come  out  of  the  ordeal  a  total  abstainer 
— even  an  anti-tobacco  reformer.  Who  can  tell 
what  fame  and  glory  is  in  store  for  me  here¬ 
after?  But,  O  dear  me,  what  would  I  not  give 
for  one  good  chew? 

Our  French  cooks  were  rather  slow  in  pre¬ 
oaring  our  breakfast  this  morning,  as  it  was  12 
o’clock,  noon,  before  rations  were  distributed  to 
us.  The  only  striking  thing  about  this  late  meal 

88 


is  that  it  was  composed  of  a  small  quantity  of 
sour,  soggy,  half-cooked  corn  bread.  We  shall 
be  compelled  to  petition  our  hotel-keeper  to  dis¬ 
miss  these  cooks  and  employ  better  ones  if  our 
food  ,is  not  more  expeditiously  and  palatably 
prepared.  The  rights  of  guests,  as  well  as  of 
cooks,  must  be  regarded  with  proper  regularity, 
or  the  Hotel  de  Libby  will  loose  its  reputation 
as  a  first-class  Jiostlery,  and  travelers  through 
this  part  of  the  Confederacy  will  shun  it — 
indeed,  its  present  corps  of  guests  would  like  to 
have  a  chance  to  run  away  from  it. 

Our  new  doctor  made  his  rounds  again.  The 
dear  man  was  late  in  coming.  The  whole  Con¬ 
federacy  seems1  to  be  getting  into>  the  bad 
habit  of  “slow  movement,”  except  when  Sheri¬ 
dan  is  after  them,  when  they  move  with 
increased  celerity.  The  doctor  left  a  very  little 
medicine  for  some  of  the  sick,  while  a  great 
many  who  needed  medicine  were  left  wholly 
unsupplied.  His  excuse  was  that  his  supply  of 
medicine  was  so  short  he  could  give  it  only  to 
those  who  needed  it  the  most.  What  a  stain  on 
American  civilization  that  even  sick  and  help 
less  men  are  left  to  die  without  proper  medical 
aid!  Did  the  world  ever  witness  such  inhuman 
treatment  as  that  bestowed  by  the  rebel  Govern¬ 
ment  on  honorable  Union  prisoners?  But  the 
day  of  vengeance  is  not  far  distant! 


89 


October  28th.  Our  prison  is  all  excitement 
this  morning.  Men  who  were  despondent  and 
ready  to  give  up  to  die,  have  taken  new  courage 
and  feel  that  life  is  still  worth  fighting  for.  I 
have  determined  not  to  “swear  off”  using 
tobacco  yet.  The  reason  for  all  this  commotion 
and  “backsliding”  is  that  news  has  reached  us 
that  we  are  to  be  exchanged.  This  time  the 
rumor  seems  to  be  well  authenticated,  our 
informant  being  no  less  a  personage  than  Major 
Turner,  Commander  of  Libby  Prison.  He  told 
us  that  negotiations  for  an  exchange  of  prison¬ 
ers  were  actually  in  progress,  and  there  were 
strong  probabilities  that  in  a  few  days  we 
would  be  sent  within  our  lines.  My  soul  is  already 
aglow  with  bright  visions  of  plenty  to  eat  and 
plenty  of — tobacco.  Today  our  rations  of  corn¬ 
dodger  were  devoured  rapidly  and  thankfully. 
Men  could  scarcely  stop  talking  about  the  pros¬ 
pective  exchange  long  enough  to  eat.  But  there 
are  many  who  refuse  to  be  carried  away  by  the 
rumor.  They  fear  it  is  only  a  ruse  of  the  enemy 
to  add  to  our  torture  by  starvation  and  suffering 
the  keener  and  deeper  anguish  of  disappoint¬ 
ment.  Another  new  doctor  has  made  his 
appearance  among  us  today.  This  one  is  an 
elderly  man,  and,  J  am  glad  to  say,  a  different 
man  to  the  upstart  whose  place  he  has  taken. 
This  one  seems  to  be  a  gentleman,  and  treats  us 
with  the  consideration  becoming  his  profession. 

90 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Rebel  Cruelty — Food  only  once  a  Day,  and 
Decreasing  in  Quantity — “No  Exchange  of 
Prisoners”- — Guards  Keep  a  Close  Watch  of 
the  Windows — Intense  Suffering  for  Tobacco 
— The  First  Death — The  Awful  Filth  of  Libby 
Prison — Still  Trying  to  be  Cheerful — Gray- 
backs  Still  on  Top— Startling  News;  we  are 
to  Leave  Libby. 

October  29th.  The  longer  we  remain  in 
prison  the  more  we  are  learning  the  lesson  that 
our  enemies  take  special  delight  in  deceiving 
us,  by  creating  in  our  hearts  hopes  of  exchange 
and  ■speedy  release,  which  have  no  foundation 
at  all.  This  is  one  of  the  bitter  lessons  we  have 
to  learn.  It  is  so  easy  to  get  such  rumors  afloat 
among  men  who  dream  of  release  by  night  and 
pray  for  it  by  day.  It  is  hard  to  believe  that 
human  beings  could  be  so  cruel.  Would-be  phil¬ 
osophers  might  say  that,  situated  as  we  were,  it 
was  foolish  to  put  so  much  confidence  in  these 
rumors.  We  ought  to  have  known  better  than 
to  allow  ourselves  to  be  carried  away  by  them. 

91 


But  it  is  the  very  circumstances  under  which  we 
were  placed  which  made  it  so  hard  to  control 
our  judgment.  Intense  desire  for  release  is  the 
ruling  power  in  the  case.  Anything  which 
gives  us  the  faintest  hope  of  being  released  from 
this  worse  than  living  death, — this  unceasing 
succession  of  days  and  nights  of  indescribable 
horror  and  suffering — is  grasped  at  and  cher¬ 
ished  with  a  spontaniety  of  feeling  and  belief 
that  is  irresistible.  But  thus  far  our  confidence 
has  been  misplaced.  Our  expectations  of  being 
exchanged  have  come  to  naught,  forcing  upon 
us  greater  depression  of  spirits  and  hopeless¬ 
ness  of  the  future.  These  hopes  and  disappoint¬ 
ments  are  beginning  to  tell  seriously  on  the 
health  of  a  great  many  of  the  prisoners.  Some 
of  these  days  the  brittle  thread  of  life  will  snap 
with  some  of  them.  Who  will  be  the  first? 

Our  rations  of  dodger  come  regularly  once  a 
day.  The  ration  is  constantly  decreasing  in 
•size,  but  it  has  a  corresponding  increase  in 
weight.  However,  the  increase  in  weight  does 
not  indicate  an  increase  in  the  nourishing  qual-' 
ity  of  the  dodger — it  simply  indicates  cupidity 
and  downright  cussedness  in  the  cooks.  How 
any  one  can  make  so  small  a  piece  of  corn 
dodger  weigh  so  heavy  is  a  problem  that  all  the 
scientific  culture  of  the  inhabitants  of  this 
“School  of  Economy”  have  not  been  able  to 

92 


determine.  But  that  which  the  mind  cannot 
grasp  the  stomach  can  feel  to  its  fullest  satisfac¬ 
tion — of  misery. 

The  doctor  banished  the  last  hope  of 
exchange  from  our  minds  this  morning,  by 
informing  us  that  the  negotiations  for  an 
exchange  of  prisoners  between  the  two  govern¬ 
ments  have  failed.  The  latest  rumor  is  that  our 
government  has  positively  refused  to  exchange 
any  prisoners  under  any  circumstances.  This 
is  sad  and  distressing  news,  not  only  to  us  who 
are  enduring  all  the  horrors  of  prison  life,  but 
to  the  loved  ones  in  our  homes,  who  are  endur¬ 
ing  agony  almost  as  great,  because  of  their  anx¬ 
iety  concerning  our  fate.  I  am  afraid  this 
shock,  which  is  the  severest  of  any  we  have  yet 
had,  will  be  more  than  many  of  the  poor  boys 
can  survive.  Is  it  possible  that  our  govern¬ 
ment  is  going  to  desert  us  and  leave  us  to  the 
malignant  cruelty  of  our  enemies?  It  looks 
that  way  to  us. 

I  have  already  mentioned  the  fact  that  one  of 
the  positive  orders  of  the  prison  was,  that  no 
prisoner  should  stand  in  close  proximity  to  any 
of  the  windows.  This,  rule  the  guards  seemed  to 
take  great  delight  in  enforcing,  because  they 
were  always  on  the  alert  for  an  opportunity  to 
shoot  one  of  the  hated  “Yanks.”  At  almost 
any  hour  of  the  day  they  could  be  seen  in  atti- 

93 


tudes  of  expectancy,  with  rifles  cocked  and 
ready,  watching  the  windows  to  find  a  man  close 
enough  to  give  them  a  reasonable  excuse  to  fire. 
They  were  many  times  seen  to  go  into  the  street, 
many  feet  away  from  their  regular  beats,  for  the 
sake  of  getting  a  shot,  at  a  prisoner  whose 
shadow,  even,  might  fall  on  the  window, 
although  the  man  himself  may  have  been,  many 
feet  inside  the  dead-line.  A  prisoner,  today, 
received  a  bullet  in  his  arm,  while  he  was  in  the 
act  of  throwing  water  out  of  a  window.  Another 
was  saved  from  death  by  a  nail  turning  the 
course  of  the  bullet.  When  the  matter  was 
reported  to  Major  Turner,  the  prison  com¬ 
mander,  he  flippantly  replied: 

“The  boys  need  practice.” 

Such  outrages  as  these  are  of  daily  occur¬ 
rence  from  which  we  have  no  protection  nor 
redress.  Will  not  God  send  both  to  such 
cruelly-wronged  men? 

October  30th.  Exchange  stock  is  away  below 
par  this  morning,  and  the  spirits  of  the  prison¬ 
ers  have  fallen  in  proportion.  The  quantity 
and  quality  of  our  rations  range  from  bad  to 
horribly  bad.  Our  ration  of  corn  bread  is  con¬ 
tracting  in  size  so  rapidly,  that  a  few  days  more 
and  all  that  will  be  left  to  us  will  be  the  memory 
of  the  dodger  that  once  came,  but  comes  no 
more. 


94 


I  wish  I  could  give  my  readers  a  faint  descrip¬ 
tion  of  the  stuff  they  are  pleased  to  call  “food,” 
and  which  they  give  us  to  eat.  As  I  have  fre¬ 
quently  stated,  it  is  composed  entirely  of  corn 
bread,  distributed  among  us  once  a  day.  This 
is  every  thing  we  have  to  eat.  It  is  made  out 
of  the  poorest  and  roughest  grade  of  corn  meal, 
large  pieces  of  cob  and  husk  being  often  found 
in  the  bread.  Sometimes  it  is  not  more  than 
half  cooked;  at  other  times,  as  to-day,  the  crust 
is  baked  so  thick  and  hard  that  it  would  make 
a  good  substitute  for  grape-shot.  Such  is  the 
food  upon  which  the  chivalric  (?)  Confederacy 
is  feeding  the  prisoners  it  has  captured  in  open 
and  honorable  battle. 

While  exchange  stock,  vitality  of  spirits,  hope 
for  the  future,  and  our  rations  of  corn  dodger 
are  all  going  down,  down,  there  is  one  commod¬ 
ity  that  is  constantly  going  up  in  price,  but 
slowly  vanishing  from  the  market,  viz.:  tobacco. 
Every  tobacco  chewer — and  they  are  legion — is 
out  of  tobacco;  not  a  chew  to  be  had  at  any 
price.  We  are  a  great  company  of  “Reformers,” 
the  advance  guard  of  the  forces  of  anti-tobacco¬ 
nists.  But  it  is  not  because  We  “want  to,”  but 
because  we  “have  to.”  I  suppose  we  could  buy 
tobacco  from  the  guards,  if  we  had  anything  to 
buy  with,  but  our  guardians — the  men  who  took 
our  money  into  safe  keeping — are  so  anxious  to 


95 


break  us  of  this  nasty  habit,  and  perfect  our 
purification,  that  they  will  not  replenish  our 
excliecquers,  which  are  as  empty  as  our  tobacco- 
bags.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  used  to  hear  the  old 
adage,  “There  is  honor  among  thieves,”  but  we 
have  found  there  are  exceptions  to  this  rule  as 
well  as  to  all  others;  at  least  we  have  found  a 
lamentable  absence  of  honor  among  the  class  of 
thieves  into  whose  hands  we  had  the  misfortune 
to  fall  on  the  morning  of  October  19th.  And 
the  more  we  see  of  them,  and  the  more  we  have 
to  do  with  them,  the  more  we  learn  of  their 
thievish  and  disreputable  characters. 

To-day  occurred  the  first  death  on  our  floor.  A 
young  man  belonging  to  a  Pennsylvania  regl-' 
ment.  He  was  not  sick,  but  died  from  sheer 
despondency.  No  words  of  encouragement  and 
cheer  that  we  could  utter  served  to  revive  his 
poor  broken  heart.  No  man  ever  more  surely 
suffered  martyrdom  for  his  country  than  did 
this  young  man.  It  is  a  great  cost  to  pay. 
Might  not  that  life  have  been  spared  to  do  bet¬ 
ter  service  for  the  country  ?  How  many  men 
will  have  to  follow  this  first  one,  God  only 
knows. 

One  thing  which  adds  to  the  severity  of  our 
sufferings  is  the  absolute  impossibility  of  main¬ 
taining  personal  cleanliness.  No  effort  what¬ 
ever  is  made  by  the  prison  authorities  to  keep 

96 


the  rooms  in  anything  like  decent  sanitary  con¬ 
ditions.  The  inside  of  this  awful  hell  is  so  foul 
and  filthy  that  no  pen  can  describe  its  true  con¬ 
dition.  As  I  have  already  stated,  it  is  overrun 
with  the  vilest  of  vermin,  and  the  floors  are 
encrusted  with  filth  of  every  description.  The 
naked  and  starved  men  lie  down  at  night  on  the 
slimy  floor,  not  to  sleep,  but  to  kill  time,  and 
arise  in  the  morning  with  hair  and  beard  mat¬ 
ted  with  the  expectorations  and  filth  of  the  day 
previous.  One  old  blanket,  full  of  dirt  and  ver¬ 
min,  has  to  serve  for  the  only  covering  of  half 
a  dozen  poor,  naked  sufferers,  whose  only 
moments  of  quietude  come  with  the  semi-obli¬ 
vion  enjoyed  in  snatches  of  half  delirious  sleep, 
on  a  bed  whose  mattress  and  pillows  were  all 
of  one  substance — a  hard,  board  floor,  reeking 
with  filth. 

Unpleasant  though  the  subject  may  be,  the 
reader  can  better  understand  the  conditions 
under  which  we  were  compelled  to  live  by  day 
and  sleep  by  night,  if  I  briefly  describe  the  sani¬ 
tary  conditions  of  the  prison.  Here,  more  than 
anywhere  else,  the  barbarous  and  devilish  char¬ 
acters  of  the  men  who  had  us  in  their  power  is 
manifest.  Circumstances  which  they  could  not 
control,  may  have  made  it  necessary  for  the 
prison  authorities  to  keep  us  on  short  rations, 
but  no  reason  under  the  sun  could  exist  why  we 


97 


should  be  compelled  to  live  in  the  midst  of  such 
reeking  filth  as  existed  in  Libby  Prison.  There 
was  an  abundance  of  fresh,  pure  water.  The 
prisoners"  would  have  been  glad  of  the  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  scrub  and  clean  the  floors  as  well  as 
our  persons,  but  all  this  was  wickedly  denied  us>, 
for  which  there  was  not  the  shadow  of  an 
excuse.  It  was  done  to  add  still  farther  to  the 
misery  we  were  compelled  to  suffer  by  day  and 
by  night. 

The  sanitary  (?)  arrangements  were  conspicu¬ 
ous  only  for  their  great  simplicity.  Of  water- 
closets,  there  were  none.  A  sink,  made  some¬ 
thing  like  a  large  trough,  is  furnished  for  each 
floor,  and  is  free  to  all.  The  convenience  of  this 
simple  arrangement  is  admirable,  and  reflects 
credit  on  the  great  men  who  conceived  and  exe¬ 
cuted  the  plan,  but  the  effect  upon  the  sense  of 
common  decency  is  simply  abominable.  Every 
day  an  old  darkey  comes  around  and  removes 
the  accumulations  of  filth.  Following  him 
comes  another  parading  through  the  building, 
carrying  an  old  coal  hod  filled  with  pine  knots, 
which  he  would  set  on  fire,  and  the  smoke  from 
which  was  supposed  to  fumigate  the  rooms  and 
kill  the  awful  stench  which  filled  the  atmos¬ 
phere  of  the  prison.  Comment  on  this  is 
unnecessary. 

Notwithstanding  these  terrible  conditions 

98 


under  which  we  were  compelled  to  live,  the 
reader  must  not  think  that  all  the  prisoners 
were  of  a  morbid,  inconsolable  turn  of  mind, 
who  did  nothing  but  mope  around,  gradually 
waste  away  and  die  for  the  want  of  something 
better  to  do.  Far  from  it.  These  cases  were 
the  exception,  not  the  rule.  Never  did  men  try 
harder  to  devise  ways  and  means  for  “killing 
time”  and  making  the  dreary  hours  pass  as 
pleasantly  as  possible.  We  had  lots  of  fun  as 
well  as  lots  of  sorrow.  There  was  much  loud, 
ringing  laughter,  as  well  as  much  groaning  and 
weeping.  Songs — love  songs,  patriotic  songs, 
humorous  songs,  plantation  songs — often  made 
old  Libby  ring  until  the  rebel  guards  would 
wonder  “What  on  airth  them  there  renegade, 
fool  Yanks  were  a-doin.”  Some  men  of  lym¬ 
phatic  temperament  were  blessed  with  the  abil¬ 
ity  to  sleep  from  ten  to  eighteen  hours  a  day, 
and  they  were  envied  by  those  who  were  differ¬ 
ently  constituted,  because  sleep  was  considered 
to  be  the  most  priceless  blessing  God  could 
bestow  on  men  situated  as  we  were.  Those 
whose  temperaments  were  of  a  different  char¬ 
acter,  and  who  could  not  render  themselves 
oblivious  to  their  surroundings  by  sleep,  devised 
many  ways  to  make  life  bearable.  Some  would 
improvise  checker-boards  on  the  floor,  and  many 
a  hard-fought  game  of  checkers  was  carried  on 


99 


in  this  primitive  manner  to  the  delight  of  the 
spectators  as  well  as  of  the  participants.  Others 
would  engage  in  the  old  game  of  “Fox  and 
Geese,”  while  others  played  and  romped  like  a 
lot  of  happy  school  boys  on  a.  stormy  day.  Many 
employed  their  time  and  skill  in  cutting  their 
names  on  the  wood-work  and  brick-work,  while 
many  exhibited  the  Yankee  proclivity  of  whit¬ 
tling  from  morning  until  night.  Thus  the  days 
were  passed,  and  life  in  Libby  Prison  was  lived. 

Owing  to  a  lack  of  proper  food,  the  foul  condi¬ 
tion  of  the  prison,  and  the  want  of  medical 
attention,  the  sick  are  rapidly  increasing.  The 
types  of  disease  are  becoming  so  malignant,  and 
the  danger  of  infection  so  great,  that  quite  a 
number  were  taken  to  the  hospital  to-day.  One 
of  the  men  taken  out  was  a  peculiarly  sad  case, 
his  malady  being  insanity  caused  by  the  want  of 
tobacco.  It  is  strange,  but  true.  Do  not  laugh, 
dear  reader,  when  I  sav  that  this  privation  is 
felt  more  keenly  than  even  the  lack  of  food,  and 
causes  greater  despondency  among  the  prison¬ 
ers — that  is, among  those  who  have  been  accus¬ 
tomed  to  the  use  of  it.  Blessed  is  the  man  (in 
Libby  Prison)  who  has  never  used,  required,  or 
“hankered”  after  the  weed. 

November  1st.  No  change  as  yet  in  the  value 
of  exchange  stock.  It  is  as  low  in  Libby  Prison 
market  as  Confederate  scrip  is  on  the  New  York 

100 


stock  exchange.  An  order  was  read  to  us  today 
which  recited  that  the  Federal  Government  had 
rejected  all  proposals  made  by  the  Confederate 
Government  for  an  exchange  of  prisoners;  that 
there  would  be  no  exchange  whatever,  and  we 
could  now  make  up  our  minds  to  remain  in  the 
Confederacy  until  the  war  closed.  Hereafter 
we  might  consider  ourselves  to  be  permanent 
and  distinguished  guests  of  President  Jefferson 
Davis.  When  this  announcement  was  closed, 
some  one  remarked  that  we  would  soon  be  the 
“extinguished  guests  of  the  Confederacy” — 
which  will  certainly  be  the  case  if  a  radical 
change  in  our  treatment  Is  not  made  by  our 
hosts. 

The  question  is  on  many  lips,  and  throbbing 
in  many  hearts,  “Can  it  be  possible  that  our 
Government;  the  Government  under  whose  flag 
we  enlisted,  for  whose  defense  we  went  into  the 
fire  of  battle,  and  for  who-se  sake  we  are  now 
enduring  prison  torture,  will  leave  us  here  to 
rot  and  die?”  Surely  the  authorities  at  Wash¬ 
ington  are  not  ignorant  of  the  awful  agony  we 
are  enduring — the  living  death  by  which  we  are 
being  slowly  tortured?  Many  are  utterly 
broken  down  with  despair,  while  others  take  a 
more  hopeful  view  of  the  situation,  refusing  to 
believe  the  statements  made  to  us  this  morning. 
They  continue  to  talk  cheerfully  and  hopefully, 

101 


and  are  free  in  expressing  their  opinion  that 
Turner  lied  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  our 
despondency,  thusi  making  onr  lot  more  hitter 
and  our  lives  more  uncertain.  Thank  God  for 
the  healthful  effects  of  one  cheerful,  hopeful 
soul. 

Our  scanty  rations  did  not  reach  us  to-day 
until  2  o’clock  P.  M.  They  were  smaller  in 
quantity,  and  no  improvement  in  quality.  We 
suppose  the  alarm  clock  in  the  quarters  of  our 
rebel  cook  failed  to  awaken  that  worthy  digni¬ 
tary,  and  hence  the  lateness  of  our  breakfast. 
But  we  are  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  contin¬ 
ued  and  gradual  decrease  in  quantity.  The 
nights  are  becoming  colder,  and  having  little,  if 
any  covering  or  clothing,  we  suffer  a  great  deal 
from  the  cold.  Our  condition  is  becoming  more 
deplorable  every  day. 

November  2nd.  Another  long  and  sleepless 
night  has  been  passed  and,  m  far  as  we  know, 
or  can  see,  at  the  opening  of  the  day,  there  was 
nothing  to  break  the  monotony  of  our  prison 
life,  or  make  the  day  more  bearable  than  the 
former  days.  We  supposed  our  principal  busi¬ 
ness  would  be  a  call  to  make  another  concerted 
attack  on  the  great  army  of  graybacks  which  are 
constantly  gaining  reinforcements  from  every 
quarter,  and  with  the  decrease  of  the  vital  fluids 
in  our  bodies,  are  becoming  more  voracious  and 

102 


desperate.  They  are  becoming  as  cruel  towards 
us  as  their  human  prototypes  who  are  standing 
guard  over  us.  However,  a  great  and  an  unex¬ 
pected  surprise  came  to  us  in  the  shape  of  an 
announcement,  which  created  quite  a.  commo¬ 
tion  in  our  ranks.  It  was,  that  as  there  is  no 
hope  of  an  exchange  of  prisoners  being  effected, 
and  as  the  winter  is  drawing  near,  the  rebel 
authorities  have  decided  to  send  us  to  a  more 
southerly  location,  as  we  suppose,  for  the  ben¬ 
efit  of  our  health.  To  morrow  at  noon  we  are 
to  be  marched  out  and  transported  to 
some  destination,  at  present  unknown  to  us. 
The  most  earnest  pleading  failed  to  induce  the 
rebels  to  tell  us  where  they  were  going  to  send 
us.  The  only  answer  we  could  get  out  of  them 
was,  to  be  ready  to  move  promptly  at  the  hour 
of  noon  to-morrow.  After  giving  us  these 
orders  the  officers  left  us  to  wonder  what  it  all 
meant,  and  whither  we  were  going. 

Excitement  runs  high;  many  theories  and 
explanations  are  advanced,  discussed  and 
decided.  But  one  thing  is  certain  to  all  of  us, 
the  last  hope  of  exchange  has  died  out.  The 
prisoners  are  discussing  the  probabilities  of  our 
destination,  but  not  even  the  most  hopeful  and 
sanguine  have  courage  enough  to  suggest  even 
the  possibility  of  exchange.  The  effects  of  this 
loss  of  hope  are  indeed  painful  in  the  extreme. 

103 


Those  who  have  already  given  up  hope  have  be¬ 
come  almost  wild  with  despair,  while  those  who 
continued  to  keep  the  spark  of  hope  alive,  are 
giving  way  to  the  awful  strain  under  which  they 
have  been  living.  Still  there  are  some  who  are 
even  rejoicing  that  we  are  going  to  leave  this 
terrible  place,  hoping  that  we  will  receive  better 
treatment  and  be  in  the  midst  of  more  decent 
and  healthful  surroundings,  while  others  whose 
natures  are  such  that  nothing  can  dismay  them, 
are  encouraging  us  to  cheer  up,  be  brave  and 
bold,  because  under  the  very  worst  circum¬ 
stances  we  can  imagine,  conditions  cannot  be 
much  worse  than  they  are  here.  Therefore, 
instead  of  complaining,  we  ought  to  be  thank¬ 
ful  that  Ave  are  going  away  from  this  living  hell. 
But  who  can  tell  what  a  day  may  bring  forth, 
or  a  change  of  location  may  mean? 

There  is  not  an  uncomfortably  large  number 
of  prisoners  confined  in  Libby  Prison,  owing  to 
the  fact  that  its  capacity  is  limited.  Large 
numbers  are  brought  in  here,  but  they  are 
allowed  to  remain  only  temporarily,  they  being 
transferred  to  others  prisons  farther  south.  One 
of  the  remarkable  facts  of  our  prison  life  is  the 
remarkably  low  rate  of  mortality  which  pre¬ 
vails.  Notwithstanding  the  wretchedness  of 
our  surroundings,  the  lack  of  food  and  of  medi¬ 
cine,  the  death  rate  of  Libby  Prison  is  smaller 


104 


than  that  of  many  other  southern  prisons.  Of 
course  I  am  speaking  of  the  relative  death  rate. 
The  deaths  in  Libby  are  numerous  enough  to 
satisfy  even  the  hellish  desires  of  our  enemies, 
many  hundreds  of  our  brave  and  noble  men  hav¬ 
ing  died  in  the  midst  of  wretchedness  which  this 
feeble  pen  cannot  attempt  to  describe.  The  few 
who  survived  and  still  live,  are  able  to  bear  tes¬ 
timony  to  the  martyrdom  of  our  brave  comrades, 
imposed  by  rebel  brutality,  which  so  wrecked 
their  poor  bodies  that  they  were  unable  to 
endure  the  strain,  and  so  laid  them  down  and 
died. 

This  day  has  passed  and  not  a  morsel  of  food 
of  any  kind  has  been  given  us  to  eat.  Why  this 
is  so  is  more  than  we  can  tell,  but  rebel  inhu- 
manitv  can  devise  more  hellish  means  of  torture 
than  Satan  himself. 


105 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Raw  Salt  Codfish  for  our  Rations — Terrible  Suf- 
feringon  Account  of  Thirst — “Good-bye  Libby 
Prison  !” — Orders  to  Shoot — The  Start  South¬ 
ward — Permission  to  Drink  from  James 
River — Sequel  to  My  Dream  of  October  19th 
— A  Night  of  Unparalleled  Suffering — Dead 
Men  in  the  Cars — Arrival  at  Salisbury 
Prison — The  Stockade — Terrible  Sights — 
Raw,  Uncooked  Corn  Meal  for  Food. 

November  3rd.  About  10  o’clock  this  morn¬ 
ing  notice  was  served  on  the  sergeants  having 
charge  of  the  ration  squads,  that  rations  were 
awaiting  them.  They  promptly  reported,  and 
soon  returned  with  our  day’s  rations,  consisting 
of  about  one  pound  of  uncooked,  hard,  dry, 
salted  codfish — this  and  nothing  more.  To  eat 
this  terrible  stuff  we  knew  would  create  the 
most  intense  suffering,  but  having  gone  nearly 
forty-eight  hours  without  a  mouthful  of  any 
kind  of  food,  our  hunger  was  so  great  that  we 
devoured  it  with  the  same  relish,  and  in  much 
the  same  manner,  that  a  ravenous  wolf  would 
devour  its  prey. 


106 


About  1  o’clock  orders  came  to  us  to  leave 
Libby  Prison.  We  were  marched  out  with  a 
heavy  guard  completely  surrounding  us.  To 
show  the  spirit  of  the  rebel  authorities  toward 
the  Federal  prisoners  in  their  power,  the  follow¬ 
ing  is  a  verbatim  copy  of  the  order  received  by 
the  guards  who  were  to  escort  us  from  Libby 
Prison : 

“G.  S.  Military  Prison, 

Richmond,  Va.,  Nov.  3rd,  1864. 

Special  Orders, 

No.  3. 

Sentinels  are  instructed  to  shoot  down  any 
prisoners  upon  first  attempt  to  escape. 

Major  Turner,  Commanding.” 

And  well  we  knew  that  our  inhuman  guards 
would  be  only  too  glad  to  find  the  least  excuse 
for  obeying  that  brutal  order. 

As  we  were  marched  out  of  the  prison,  we 
were  formed  into  four  columns,  close  marching 
order,  and  then  ordered  to  stand  at  “parade 
rest.”  In  that  exposed  condition  we  stood  for 
over  an  hour.  During  this  time  we  were 
reviewed  and  interviewed  by  the  hospitable(?) 
citizens  of  Richmond,  of  both  sexes,  and,  I 
might  add,  of  all  colors.  Some  of  these  men  and 
women  were  just  as  venomous  in  their  speeches 
and  actions  toward  us  as  they  were  upon  bur 
first  arrival  among  them;  but  others,  seeing  our 


107 


ghatsly  appearance,  almost  naked,  and  so  ema¬ 
ciated,  became  more  softened  in  tlieir  speech 
and  humane  in  their  actions.  But  we  paid  little 
attention  to  either  their  venom  or  their  pity. 

At  last  the  order,  “Forward  march !”  was 
given.  Marching  west,  we  crossed  the  Janies 
Biver,  and  then  turned  south  until  we  reached 
the  railroad  depot.  Here  we  were  crowded  into 
cattle  cars,  and  started  southward — whither,  no 
one  knows  except  those  who  have  us  in  charge. 

We  now  began  to  suffer  most  intensely  from 
thirst.  The  salt  codfish  which  we  had  eaten  for 
our  breakfast  created  a  thirst  which  was  ter¬ 
rible.  We  had  no  canteens  in  which  to  carry 
water,  and  no  facilities  had  been  provided  by 
the  rebel  authorities  whereby  }vater  might  be 
conveyed  to  us  in  the  cars.  The  prospect  ahead 
of  us  made  the  prisoners  almost  desperate.  As 
we  crossed  James  Biver  I  was  so  thirsty  that  I 
ventured  to  ask  the  guard  to  permit  me  to  go 
down  the  bank  and  get  a  drink.  Strange  to  say, 
he  granted  me  the  coveted  favor.  As  I  laid 
down  at  the  edge  of  the  river  to  drink,  as  I  sel¬ 
dom,  if  ever,  drank  before,  my  dream  on  that 
memorable  morning  of  October  19th,  already 
related,  came  into  my  mind.  Involuntarily,  I 
turned  my  face  up  stream  and  wondered  if  it 
were  possible  that  I  was  going  to  drink  the 
James  Biver  dry.  I  almost  felt  that  my  raging 


108 


thirst  would  make  me  equal  to  the  task,  and 
that  I  must  do  it  before  it  could  be1  satisfied.  The 
only  hindrance  to  my  desire  was  the  lack  of 
capacity  to  hold  it  all.  If  my  capacity  had  been 
equal  to  my  craving  desire,  I  should  have  swal¬ 
lowed  all  the  water  and  thus  wreaked  my  veng¬ 
eance  on  the  city  of  Richmond  by  leaving  it  to 

• 

die  on  the  banks  of  a  dry  river,  and  depriving  it 
of  the  protection  of  its  great  ironclads.  What  a 
fine  scheme  that  would  have  been!  But,  alas! 
I  could  not  accomplish  it.  I  drank  of  the  water 
until  I  was  in  actual  misery,  and  still  my  thirst 
seemed  to  be  as  fierce  as  if  I  had  not  tasted  a 
drop.  The  torture  of  the  hours  following,  no 
pen  nor  tongue  can  describe. 

About  5  o’clock  P.  M.,  our  train  started  south¬ 
ward,  destination  still  unknown,  and  about 
which  we  were  not  very  greatly  concerned. 
Every  train  coming  north  to  Richmond,  and 
there  were  many,  had  the  right  of  way  over  our 
train,  which  subjected  us  to  not  only  many  ted¬ 
ious  delays,  but  to  a  great  deal  of  switching  and 
bumping.  About  4  o’clock  in  the  morning  we 
reached  Greensborough,  North  Carolina.  No 
words  can  express  the  sufferings  of  that  night. 
Every  car  was  packed  as  full  of  prisoners  as  it 
could  hold.  There  was  scarcely  room  to  stand, 
none  whatever  to<  lie  clown.  One  door  in  each 
car  was  closed,  barred  and  bolted,  while  at  the 

109 


other  door  two  guards  were  stationed,  with  guns 
loaded  and  bayonets  fixed,  each  man  carrying  in 
addition  thereto  two  large  revolvers,  having  full 
power  and  authority  to  shoot  down  any  prisoner 
wTho  made  even  a  movement  toward  the  door.  In 
addition  to  these  guards,  there  were  two  cars 
loaded  with  rebel  troops,  to  be  used  against  us 
in  case  we  made  any  attempt  to  escape  during 
the  journey.  That  long  and  weary  night  can 
never  be  forgotten  by  any  of  the  unfortunate 
men.  The  appeals  for  water  would  beggar 
description.  Men  fairly  frothed  at  the  mouth. 
Some  of  the  prisoners  begged  .the  guards  to  let 
them  get  off  at  the.  water  tanks,  many  of  which 
we  stopped  at,  pledging  their  most  sacred  honor 
to  return  immediately  after  getting  water,  but 
to  all  such  piteous  appeals  the  answer  was:  “It 
is  against  orders.” 

We  had  hoped  that  when  we  halted  at 
Greensborough  we  would  be  supplied  with 
water,  but  we  were  doomed  to  disappointment. 
No  one  was  allowed  to  leave  the  train  until 
after  daylight,  although  a  large  water  tank  was 
not  more  than  one  hundred  yards  away  from  us, 
with  plenty  of  good  water  in  it.  I  want  to 
here  record  my  profound  belief  that  this  terrible 
night  of  torture  was  deliberately  planned  by  the 
rebel  authorities  at  Richmond.  Why  did  they 
give  us  the  dry,  uncooked,  salt  codfish  instead 

110 


of  the  usual  ration  of  corn  bread  which,  up  to 
that  date,  we  had  invariably  received?  Why 
did  they  allow  us  to  go  for  forty-eight  hours 
without  a  bit  of  food  of  any  kind  before  giving 
us  the  salt  codfish?  Knowing  that  we  had  no 
canteens,  why  did  they  not  make  some  provis¬ 
ion  for  furnishing  us  with  water,  or  at  least 
allow  us  to  procure  it  from  the  water-tanks  at 
which  the  engine  pulling  our  train  took  water? 
Could  all  this  have  happened  by  mere  chance? 
By  no  means!  They  knew  what  they  were 
doing,  and  it  was  a  deliberate  plan  to  torture 
their  prisoners,  hoping  that  many  of  them 
would  go  insane  from  the  terrific  thirst,  and 
would  thus  furnish  an  excuse  for  speedily  dis¬ 
patching  them. 

November  4th.  About  half  past  6  o’clock  we 
were  permitted  to  leave  the  cars  and  go  to  the 
railroad  water-tank  and  get  water.  Many  of 
the  prisoners  could  not  control  their  terrible, 
devouring  thirst,  and  drank  to  such  excess  that 
they  were  injured  for  life.  One  man  dropped 
dead  while  in  the  act  of  drinking.  Others 
seemed  to  lose  their  reason  and  acted  more  like 
maniacs  than  like  rational  human  beings. 

After  we  had  finished  drinking,  a  detail  was 
made  to  go  through  the  train  and  carry  out  the 
unfortunates  who  had  died  during  the  night. 
Connely  and  myself  were  among  the  number 

111 


detailed  for  this  sad  duty,  and  from  the  car  in 
which  we  rode  we  took  out  four  dead  men.  The 
sad,  pleading  eyes  of  the  dead,  together  with 
the  cries  of  despair  from  the  living,  were  scenes 
that  can  never  be  effaced  from  memory.  I  did 
not  help  bury  the  dead;  in  fact,  I  felt  more 
like  being  buried  myself  than  assisting  to  bury 
others.  Thirteen  dead  men  told  how  successful 
were  the  cruel  and  devilish  plans  of  our  barbar¬ 
ous  captors  during  that  first  night  ride  from 
Libby  Prison  towards  our  unknown  destination. 
Thirteen  noble,  honorable,  brave  soldiers  foully 
and  premeditatedly  murdered!  God  will  hold 
the  wicked  murderers  responsible,  and  there 
will  yet  come  a  day  of  accounting. 

We  were  corralled  here  until  about  10  o’clock, 
when  we  were  ordered  to  get  into  the  cars 
again.  We  are  no  longer  in  the  dark  as  to  our 
destination,  as  it  has  been  made  known  to  us 
that  we  are  bound  for  the  prison  at  Salisbury, 
North  Carolina.  We  reached  that  famous  place 
about  5  o’clock  P.  M.  A  cold  drizzling  rain  was 
falling.  We  were  welcomed  with  shouts  of 
“barn-burners,”  “thieves,”  “robbers.  “Now,  we 
will  fix  you.  It  will  be  a  long  time  before  you 
burn  any  more  barns.  We  will  send  you  where 
there  won’t  be  any  barns  to  burn!”  As  we 
marched  into  the  dismal  place  we  became  fully 
convinced  that  suffering  beyond  the  power  of 


112 


man  to  conceive  was  in  store  for  us.  We  knew 
that  so  far  as  our  enemies  could  carry  out  their 
threats  they  would  do  it.  It  has  been  said  that 
a  cat  cannot  travel  so  far  away  from  home  but 
the  tail  will  follow  it,  and  that  man  cannot  go 
so  far  away  but  liis  record  will  follow  him.  So 
it;  seemed  to  us  that  “barn-burning”  was  our 
supreme  crime.  We  thought  it  must  be 
stamped  on  our  faces,  because  wherever  we 
went  these  words  greeted  our  ears,  “Barn 
burners!” 

Salisbury  Prison  is  a  brick  structure  about  40 
feet  wide  and  100  feet  long  ,  four  stories  high. 
It  was  originally  erected  for  a  cotton  factory. 
In  addition  to  the  main  structure,  there  were 
four  or  five  tenement  houses  adjoining.  This 
prison  was  first  used  for  deserters  from  the 
rebel  army,  violators  of  military  orders,  cut¬ 
throats  and  criminals  of  all  kinds.  During  the 
early  part  of  1864  it  was  converted  into  a  mili¬ 
tary  prison  by  building  a  stockade  around  it 
and  enlarging  its  area  to  about  six  acres.  This 
stockade  was  formed  by  setting  pine  logs  in  the 
ground  to  a  depth  of  about  three  feet  and 
extending  about  twelve  feet  above  the  ground. 
They  were  boarded  up  and  down,  so  as  to  make 
a  solid  wall.  On  the  outside  of  this  enclosure, 
and  about  hree  feet  from  the  top,  a  platform,  or 
walk^  was  erected  on  which  sentinels  were 

113 


placed  about  ten  paces  apart,  and  who  walked 
their  beats,  day  and  night.  The  guards  had 
orders  to  be  on  the  alert  and  shoot  down  every 
Yank  who  dared  to  cross  the  “dead-line,”  or  in 
any  way  give  the  least  provocation.  This  stock¬ 
ade  enclosed  the  large  brick  building  and  two 
of  the  small  tenement  houses  heretofore  men¬ 
tioned.  At  the  northwest  and  northeast  corners 
of  this  stockade  howitzers  were  placed  loaded 
and  trained  on  the  interior,  so  that  in  the  event 
of  an  attempted  outbreak  every  portion  of  the 
prison  was  covered,  and  the  guns  would  scatter 
death  and  destruction  among  the  prisoners. 
Along  the  east,  west  and  north  sides  of  the 
stockade,  about  six  feet  in  the  inside  a  ditch 
was  dug  about  three  feet  wide  and  two  feet 
deep,  forming  wtoat  was  called  “The  Dead 
Line.”  Any  prisoner  crossing  this  line,  whether 
accidently  or  purposly,  or  even  found  leaning 
against  it,  was  shot  down  without  warning.  As 
early  as  September,  1863,  a  few  prisoners  were 
kept  in  this  prison.  In  the  early  part  of  1864 
another  building  was  erected,  about  twenty  feet 
wide  and  seventy  or  eighty  feet  long.  It  was  a 
frame  structure  and  was  used  for  hospital  ser¬ 
vice.  This  building  was  two  stories  high,  poorly 
ventilated  in  summer  and  very  uncomfortable 
in  winter.  The  brick  prison  proper,  the  frame 
hospital  building,  and  a  small  building  used  as 


an  office  in  the  early  days  of  the  prison,  supple¬ 
mented  by  about  six  Bell  tents,  and  six  or  seven 
log  huts,  furnishes  all  the  shelter  we  have.  How 
scanty  these  accommodations  are  the  reader 
can  easily  imagine  when  I  state  that,  in  addition 
to  the  large  number  of  Union  prisoners,  there 
are  also  about  300  rebel  convicts  here,  a  large 
proportion  of  them  being  from  the  very  lowest 
classes  of  humanity  that  ever  disgraced  the 
earth.  These  convicts  make  the  night  hideous 
by  gathering  together  in  squads,  roaming  over 
the  prison  grounds,  and  wherever  they  find  a 
Union  prisoner  alone,  overpowering  him  and 
robbing  him  of  his  clothing,  blanket,  or  what¬ 
ever  else  he  might  chance  to  have,  or  that  their 
thievish  propensities  might  covet.  Their 
method  of  robbery  was  to  pounce  on  their 
victim  unawares,  crush  him  to  the  earth,  seize 
him  by  the  throat  so  that  he  could  not  cry  and 
make  alarm,  and'  then  rob  him  at  their  own 
pleasure,  after  which  they  would  hurry  away 
to  their  own  wretched  quarters,  which  has 
already  received  the  appropriate  name,  “The 
Devil’®  Den.” 


-A 


115 


CHAPTER  X. 


First  Impressions  of  Salisbury  Prison — Hungry, 
but  no  Rations — Sleeping  Under  Difficulties 
— An  Adventure — Destitute  of  Clothing — Our 
Rations  Arrive — What  Connely  and  I  Saw — 
Recruiting  for  the  Rebel  Army — The  Dead 
Wagon— Comrades  Discovered — Better  Shel¬ 
ter — Stock  Company  Formed — We  Prepare 
Better  Quarters — How  We  Dug  Our  Cave — 
Drawing  Rations  Under  Difficulties — New 
Stockholders  Taken  In — Starving  in  the 
Midst  of  Plenty. 

On  the  5th  day  of  November,  1864,  in  the 
midst  of  a  cold,  drizzling  rain,  we  were  marched 
inside  Salisbury  Stockade  to  become  a  part,  of 
its  wretched  inhabitants.  Our  condition  was 
pitiable  in  the  extreme.  Not  a  mouthful  of  any 
kind  of  food  have  we  had  to  eat  since  we  ate  the 
terrible  ration  of  salt  codfish  in  Libby  Prison 
two  days  before.  W e  were  wet  to  the'  skin,  and 
so  cold  that  I  trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf.  The 
only  way  I  could  keep  my  teeth  from  chattering 
was  by  holding  them  shut  tightly  together.  In 

116 


this  condition  I  took  a  hasty  survey  of  our  new 
quarters,  but  the  more  I  saw  of  it  the  more  its 
unspeakable  horrors  were  impressed  on  my 
mind.  I  saw  no  relief  for  the  present,  and  could 
only  anticipate  increasing  misery,  want  and  suf¬ 
fering  for  the  future.  Darkness  coming  on,  the 
terrible  conclusion  is  forced  upon  us  that  we  are 
to  lie  down  again  without  any  food  being  fur 
nished  us  to  satisfy  our  awful  hunger.  Con- 
nely  and  myself  had  been  successful  in  keeping 
our  roll,  consisting  of  a  blanket,  and  two  pieces 
of  shelter  tents.  These  we  divided  between  our¬ 
selves,  he  taking  the  blanket  and  I  the  pieces  of 
tent;  these  we  placed  over  our  shoulders  and 
sat  down  in  the  mud,  leaning  our  backs  against 
a  tree.  In  this  position  I  soon  fell  asleep,  being 
so  wearied  and  exhausted  that  I  could  not  keep 
awake.  I  was  soon  roughly  awakened  from 
sleep  by  some  one  violently  pulling  at  the  pieces 
of  tent  with  which  I  covered  my  shoulders.  I 
immediately  took  in  the  •situation  and  called  to 
Connely  for  assistance.  He  awoke  and  came  to 
my  aid,  and  together  we  succeeded  in  beating 
off  the  thief,  who,  seeing  that  we  had  the  better 
of  him,  fled  in  dismay. 

November  6th.  Our  reinforcements  filled  the 
•  quota  of  Salisbury  Prison  to  10,321  men,  besides 
the  300  cut-throats  and  convicts  already  men¬ 
tioned.  Thousands  are  exposed  to  all  kinds  of 


117 


weather,  day  and  night,  winter  and  summer.  A 
large  majority  of  the  prisoners  have  neither 
blanket,  overcoat,  shoes  or  hat.  Many  were 
reduced  to  only  a  shirt  and  pair  of  drawers.  In 
this  forlorn  condition  the  poor  fellows  burrowed 
in  the  ground,  and  as  long  as  there  was  room 

crept  under  the  buildings,  while  others  went 

* 

through  the  cold,  bleak  nights  in  the  open  air, 
lying  on  the  muddy  or  frozen  ground  absolutely 
shelterless.  I  have  seen  unfortunate  men  lie 
down  in  the  mud,  fall  asleep,  and  on  awakening 
would  find  their  clothes  frozen  to  the  ground, 
holding  them  fast  as  if  pinioned  to  the  earth. 
To  see  these  brave  men  suffering  such  untold 
agonies,  was  a  sight  which,  when  once  beheld, 
could  never  be  forgotten. 

About  noon  we  were  counted  off  in  squads  of 
about  one  hundred  men  to  a  squad.  Each 
■squad  was  commanded  by  a  sergeant,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  report  the  number  of  men  under 
his  command,  draw  and  divide  their  rations. 
When  our  squad  was  organized  and  reported, 
rations  were  issued  to  us,  consisting  of  one  pint 
of  corn  meal,  the  cob  being  ground  with  the 
grain.  Having  no  facilities  for  cooking  it  in 
any  way,  our  only  recourse  was  to  eat  it  raw. 

November  6th.  This  morning  the  sun  is  shin¬ 
ing  bright  and  beautiful.  Oonnely  and  I  took 
a  survey  of  the  prison,  if  such  a  desolate  place 

118 


could  be  deemed  worthy  of  even  such  a  name.  It 
is  indeed  the  most  forlorn  place  the  eye  of  man 
ever  beheld.  Prisoners  were  standing  on  the 
sunny  side  of  the  trees  gathering  all  the  heat 
possible  with  which  to  warm  their  poor,  emaci¬ 
ated  bodies.  As  we  came  to  the  frame  building 
used  for  a  hospital,  we  looked  on  a  scene  that 
beggars  description.  Here  lie  the  dead  bodies 
of  four  prisoners,  eyes  shrunken,  faces  emaci¬ 
ated,  their  ghastly  countenances  telling  the 
awful  tale  of  the  terrible  struggle  they  had 
fought  with  death,  but,  alas !  in  vain.  Here  they 
lay  unnoticed  and  uncared  for.  Suffering  reigns 
everywhere.  The  only  smiling  faces  we  saw 
were  those  of  the  rebel  guards.  Every  eye  was 
dull  with  despondency,  and  every  lip  denoted 
pain.  From  every  hole  in  the  ground  and  every 
place  where  men  could  crawl  away,  there  came 
forth  what  were  once  strong,  able-bodied,  happy 
men,  but  now  changed  into  gaunt  and  ghastly 
forms,  slowly  perishing  from  hunger,  exposure 
and  ill-treatment.  About  noon  our  attention  was 
drawn  to  a  crowd  of  men  congregated  at  the  big 
gate.  Our  curiosity  was  excited  and  we  went 
to  see  what  it  meant.  We  found  a  fair  speci¬ 
men  of  a  rebel  perched  on  a  box,  pleading  for 
recruits  to  enlist  in  the  rebel  army  to  go  to  the 
extreme  south  and  garrison  forts.  This  was  in 
order  to  relieve  the  able-bodied  soldiers  there 


119 


who  were  greatly  needed  at  the  front.  He  was 
especially  desirous  to  get  wagon-makers  and 
blacksmiths,  and  as  an  inducement  to  these 
mechanics  to  prove  disloyal  to  their  country,  by 
enlisting  in  the  rebel  army,  he  offered  an  extra 
inducement  of  one  hundred  dollars  in  southern 
scrip,  a  suit  of  clothes,  full  rations  and  twenty 
dollars  a  month  while  they  served.  A  few 
accepted  the  offer.  They  saw  no  hope  of  gain¬ 
ing  their  liberty  alive;  they  had  barely  clothes 
enough  to  cover  their  nakedness;  they  thought, 
perhaps,  they  could  save  their  lives  and  find  a 
better  opportunity  to  escape  to  the  Union  lines. 
But  the  great  majority  of  the  prisoners  looked 
upon  these  excuses  with  contempt,  entirely 
unworthy  of  men  who  had  worn  the  Union  blue, 
and  followed  the  old  Flag.  Personally,  I  felt 
then  that  I  would  starve  to  death  a  dozen  times 
before  I  would  be  guilty  of  such  a  cowardly  and 
traitorous  act — and  there  were  thousands  of 
others  of  the  same  mind.  After  the  recruiting 
officer  was  done  exhorting  for  recruits,  he 
informed  us  that  they  were  scant  of  rations  and 
would  not  be  able  to  furnish  us  anything  to  eat 
that  day;  that  we  must  be  as  patient  as  possible 
as  they  were  expecting  rations  from  the  Shen¬ 
andoah  Valley,  and  they  would  probably  be  at 
hand  the  next  morning.  It  seems  as  though  we 
will  never  hear  the  last  of  the  “ Valley.”  Most 


120 


of  the  prisoners  in  this  pen  were  captured  in  the 
Shenandoah  Valley  during  the  campaign  of 
1864,  and  hence  were  especially  obnoxious  to 
the  rebels,  and  were  treated  accordingly. 

About  2  o’clock  the  “dead- wagon”  made  its 
daily  tour  of  the  grounds,  halting  at  the  “Dead 
House”  to  load  in  the  bodies,  lying  there,  and 
then  passing  out  at  the  south  gate  to  the  grave 
yard,  or  trenches,  which  are  about  250  yards 
southwest  of  the  prison.  The  “dead  house”  was 
a  •small  brick  building,  situated jnear  the  center 
of  the  stockade.  In  the  days  when  “Cotton  was 
King,”  and  raised  in  abundance,  this  building 
was  used  for  an  office  in  connection  with  the 
cotton  factory.  Here  they  kept  their  books  and 
supped  their  Kentucky  Bourbon.  It  is  again 
used  as  an  office.  Here  books  are  again  kept. 
But  the  long  line  of  figures  do1  not  represent 
dollars  and  cents — the  business  of  a  prosperous 
concern,  sending  its  valuable  commerce  into 
many  regions — they  do  indicate  the  numbers  of 
brave  and  true  soldiers  who  have  been  literally 
murdered  by  starvation  and  brutality,  the  work 
of  an  inhuman  so-called,  Government,  whose 
barbarity  is  sending  sorrow  and  dismay  into 
thousands  of  northern  homes.  The  dead  are 
gathered  up  during  the  forenoon,  brought  to  the 
“dead  house,”  and  piled  up  against  the  end  like 
sacks  of  grain,  counted  by  a  sergeant  who  reg- 


121 


isters  the  number  in  a  book  kept  for  that  pur¬ 
pose.  An  accurate  account  is  thus  kept  of  each 
day’s  mortality.  When  this  is  done,  the  dead 
wagon  hauls  them  out  in  the  same  manner  they 
are  piled  up  in  the  dead-house. 

The  night  is  drawing  near  and  we  must  be 
looking  for  a  place  to  sleep,  as  it  is  certain  we 
will  get  nothing  to  eat  this  day.  We  have 
found  some  of  our  regiment  who  were  captured 
at  Winchester,  September  19th,  one  month  ear¬ 
lier  than  we  were.  They  have  a  piece  of  tar¬ 
paulin  stretched  over  a  pole,  and  we — Connely 
and  myself,  are  invited  to  lodge  with  them  over 
night.  Our  quarters  are  very  much  crowded, 
but  it  beats  hanging  up  on  the  rainy  side  of  a 
tree.  We  did  not  sleep  much  the  first  part  of 
the  night  as  we  were  too  busy  talking  over  the 
battles  we  had  fought  in  together,  but  towards 
the  latter  part  of  the  night,  one  by  one,  wearied 
and  exhausted,  hungry  and  heart-sick,  we  fell 
asleep. 

November  7th.  This  morning  we  have  made 
a  fortunate  discovery — one  which  we  hope  will 
add  a  little  to  our  comfort.  Connely  and  I 
found  two  members  of  Company  “H”  of  our  reg¬ 
iment  who  are  the  fortunate  possessors  of  an 
old  tent.  These,  when  spliced  with  the  two 
pieces  we  have,  will  make  two  whole  tents. 
Then  we  started  out  to  look  up  a  location  on 


122 


which  to  pitch  them,  and  succeeded  in  finding 
room  just  south  of,  and  about  five  paces  from 
the  dead-house.  A  large  oak  tree  grew  near  by. 
The  location  seemed  to  be  quite  favorable,  espe¬ 
cially,  as  one  of  our  number  remarked,  “our 
friends  would  not  have  very  far  to  carry  us  in 
order  to  reach  the  dead-house.”  Here  we  began 
to  dig  a  basement  over  which  to  erect  our  tents. 
With  the  aid  of  an  old  case-knife,  and  the  half 
of  a  canteen,  we  commenced  the  work  of  “stak¬ 
ing  out”  our  claim.  The  work  was  pushed  for¬ 
ward  until  about  noon  when  our  squad,  known 
as  “Squad  No.  10,”  was  called  to  get  our  rations, 
which  consisted  of  the  same  as  day  before  yes 
terday,  viz.:  one  pint  of  corn  meal,  including 
the  cob.  Unfortunately,  the  quality  was  as 
poor  as  the  quantity,  the  meal  having  been 
heaped  together  in  such  quantities  that  it  had 
heated  and  become  very  musty.  However,  we 
would  have  waived  all  objections  against  the 
quality  of  the  stuff,  but  we  could  not  reconcile 
ourselves  to  the  limited  quantity.  This,  together 
with  the  absence  of  fuel  and  all  facilities  for 
cooking  it,  made  it  very  hard  to  bear.  It  was 
eaten  raw.  This  course  of  diet  was  of  the  same 
order  as  that  of  eating  dried  apples  for  break¬ 
fast,  drinking  a  pint  of  water  for  dinner,  and 
allowing  the  pnass  to  swell  for  supper.  This  tra¬ 
ditional  plan  we  changed  somewhat.  We  ate 

123 


the  corn  meal  for  dinner,  drank  the  water  for 
supper,  and  let  it  swell  for  the  next  day’s 
rations.  Some  of  the  poor  fellows  had  neither 
cnp  nor  can  in  which  to  get  their  ration  of  meal. 
Some  resorted  to  their  hats,  while  those  who 
were  not  fortunate  enough  to  possess  a  hat  sub¬ 
stituted  a  corner  of  their  blouse,  and  if  neither 
hat  nor  blouse  were  available — and  thousands 
ol  poor  fellows  were  destitute  of  both — they 
would  draw  their  hands  together  and  receive 
their  meal  in  that  way.  Any  way  so  the  pre¬ 
cious  meal,  poor  as  it  was,  could  be  carried  to 
some  secluded  spot,  where  it  would  be  devoured 
as  only  famishing  men  could  devour  it. 

After  we  had  eaten  our  dry  meal,  all  hands 
went  to  work  digging  with  a  will.  We  rein¬ 
forced  the  case  knife  with  a  sharp  stick,  and  the 
canteen  was  kept  going  by  changing  operators, 
so  that  bv  sundown  we  had  a  hole  about  one 
foot  deep,  five  and  one-half  feet  wide,  and  eight 
feet  long.  Will  some  of  my  readers  try  to  do 
the  same  amount  of  work  in  the  same  length  of 
time,  using  only  the  same  kind  of  implements? 
But  suffering  men  will  nerve  themselves  to  do 
almost  superhuman  deeds.  One  of.  our  party 
climbed  the  tree  and  with  the  assistance  of  the 
case  knife  and  mallet  succeeded  in  cutting  off 
limbs  for  a  ridge-pole,  end  poles  and  stakes, 
which  enabled  us  to  put  up  our  tent.  And  in 


124 


this  domicile,  rude  as  it  was,  we  were  as  happy 
and  contented  as  Diogenes  in  his  famous  tub. 
Our  family  numbered  six,  all  told.  But  we  had 
only  two  blankets,  and  one  of  them  was  almost 
worthless,  it  being  the  one  we  had,  early  in  our 
capture,  cut  up  so  badly  in  order  to  deceive  our 
rebel  guards,  by  wrapping  it  around  our  good 
blanket  and  pieces  of  tent.  Something  had  to 
be  done  in  order  to  increase  the  supply  of  blan¬ 
kets  because  by  no  manner  of  stretching  or 
“spooning”  could .  one  good  blanket  and  one 
mutilated  blanket  be  made  to  cover  the  bodies, 
poor  and  emaciated  as  they  were,  of  six  men.  A 
meeting  of  the  “stockholders”  was  called,  the 
situation  discussed,  propositions  made,  and,  by 
a  unanimous  vote  we  agreed  to  take  in  two  more 
“stockholders/-  but  upon  the  express  condition 
that  they  would  each  furnish  a  blanket.  This 
swelled  our  “family”  to  eight,  and  all  to  lie 
down  in  a  space  five  and  a  half  feet  by  eight. 
Six  of  the  number  were  members  of  the  22nd 
Iowa  Infantry;  the  other  two  belonged  to  a 
Maine  regiment. 

Some  of  the  prisoners  sold  every  article  of 
clothing  they  could  possibly  spare — some  retain¬ 
ing  only  their  shirts — in  order  to  obtain  money 
enough  with  which  to  buy  bread.  It  took  from 
$5.00  to  $10.00  in  Confederate  money  to  buy  a 
single  loaf  of  bread.  It  may  seem  impossible 


125 


to  readers  of  this  book,  that  at  this  very  time, 
when  we  were  receiving  only  one  pint  of  dry* 
corn-cob  meal  once  a  day  for  our  rations;  when 
men  were  selling  the  clothes  off  their  backs  to 
buy  bread  to  keep  from  starving,  the  commis¬ 
sary  store-house  in  Salisbury  wan  packed  from 
floor  to  roof  with  corn  and  pork,  but  such  is  the 
fact.  Are  we  not  forced  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  systematic  starvation  of  the  Federal  pris¬ 
oners  was  a  wilful  and  deliberate  plan  to  kill 
them  off?  This  purpose  of  the  Confederate 
authorities  was  most  faithfully  carried  out  by 
John  H.  Gee,  Post  Commander.  When  a  sub¬ 
ordinate  officer,  knowing  that  plenty  of  food 
was  packed  away  in  the  commissary  store-house, 
asked  Gee  for  permission  to  issue  full  rations  to 

the  prisoners,  this  fiend  answered:  “No,  sir;  it 
is  against  the  orders  issued  to  me.  Give  them 

quarter  rations.” 


CHAPTER  XI. 


First  Night  in  our  New  Quarters — The  Recruit¬ 
ing  Officer  Again — Salisbury  Buildings  and 
Their  Uses — Dirt,  Vermin  and  Death  Reign 
Supreme — Great  Suffering  for  Want  of  Cloth¬ 
ing  and  Shelter — Heartless  Physicians — Try 
ing  to  Force  the  Prisoners  to  Enlist — How  we 
get  our  Fuel  and  Water — A  Murderous  Order 
— Good  Fortune — A  Petition  and  its  Wicked 
Refusal — “Barn  Burners”  Again — A  Convict 
Whipped — A  Terrible  Scene — An  Affecting- 
Parting  Between  two  Comrades — A  V aluable 
Purchase. 

November  8th.  The  night  was  passed  in  com¬ 
parative  comfort  in  our  new  quarters.  Although 
somewhat  crowded,  yet  by  sleeping  in  the  same 
relation  to  one  another  as  mother  used  to  put 
away  her  silver  spoons,  and,  when  the  squad 
wanted  to  turn  over  or  change  position,  by 
observing  the  command,  “Spoon  to  the  right  !” 
or  “Spoon  to  the  left!”  as  the  case  might  be,  we 
slept  very  comfortably.  Fortunately  we  were 
so  tired  and  slept  so  soundly,  that  we  had  to 
“spoon  over”  only  once  during  the  night. 

127 


I  enjoyed!  a  rare  luxury  today  in  the  shape  of 
a  chew  of  tobacco — the  first  I  have  had  for  sev¬ 
eral  days.  Words  cannot  describe  the  joy  I 
received  in  rolling  that  sweet  morsel  under  my 
tongue.  The  nectar  and  ambrosia  of  the  Grecian 
gods  were  as  “green  persimmons77  to  the  sweet¬ 
ness  and  richness  of  that  “chew!77 

Today  the  recruiting  officer  has  again  made 
liis  appearance  and  is  working  hard  to- get  men 
to  enlist  in  the  rebel  army.  Every  inducement 
is  held  out  to  Union  prisoners  to  take  the  oatli 
of  allegiance  to  the  Southern  Confederacy.  Thej 
take  advantage  of  the  awful  despondency  which 
prevails  among  the  prisoners,  telling  us  that 
they  have  not  the  wherewith  to  feed  us,  and 
that  our  government  at  Washington  will  not 
consent  to  an  exchange  of  prisoners.  A  few  of 
the  poor  boys  are  won  over  b}7  these  lying  state¬ 
ments- — but  only  a  few — and  these,  as  they  pass 
out  at  the  gate,  to  become  traitors  to  their  Flag, 
have  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  flying  clubs  and 
other  mis-sles.  The  great  majority  prefer  death 
to  disloyalty. 

The  large  brick  building  and  one  of  the  frame 
buildings  are  full  to  overflowing  with  sick  men 
To  look  in  upon  them  is  to  witness  a  sight  that 
is  heart-rending  beyond  expression.  The  lowei 
story  of  the  brick  building  has  only  a  dirt  floor 
On  this  the  sick  are  placed  in  rows  running  the 

128 


LARGE  BRICK  HOSPITAL  BUILDING 


full  length  of  the  room.  At  one  time  a  very 
little  straw  partially  protected  the  poor,  sick 
bodies  from  contact  with  the  dampness  and 
filthiness  of  the  dirt  floor,  but  the  straw  has 
become  so  broken  and  scattered  by  long  use  and 
no  replenishment  that  it  no  longer  affords  any 
protection.  The  dust  is  so  very  thick  and  is  so 
full  of  vermin  that  they  are  seen  crawling 
around  like  ants  on  an  ant-hill.  The  suffering 
of  the  helpless  sick  is  fearful  to-  contemplate, 
and  the  sight  enough  to  make  one’s  blood  run 
cold.  It  is  not  an  uncommon  thing  to  see  sick 
men  who  are  so  weak  that  they  cannot  brush 
the  vermin  away,  completely  covered  with  them, 
face,  whiskers,  hair,  in  fact  the  whole  body,  is 
devoured  and  tormented  by  the  pests.  No  effort 
whatever  is  made  by  the  prison  authorities  to 
cleanse  the  place  or  give  any  protection  to  the 
sick  and  tormented  men.  Their  living  hell  is 
called  a  “Hospital,”  and  the  villians  who  are  in 
charge  of  it  are  called  “men!”  What  a  travesty 
on  truth  and  justice! 

The  second  story  of  this  building  is  also  used 
for  the  sick.  It  differs  from  the  lower  story 
only  by  having  a  floor,  but  so  far  as  dirt  and 
vermin  are  concerned,  it  shows  no  improvement 
whatever.  On  this  floor  also  the  sick  are  laid  in 
rows  and  so  closely  packed  together  that  there 
is  no  room  to  step  between  the  bodies.  The 

130 


ventilation  in  this  room  being  very  poor,  words 
cannot  describe  the  terrible  odor  which  filled 
its  atmosphere,  and  which  the  poor  fellows  were 
compelled  to  breathe  day  and  night.  No  man 
ever  left  the  pen,  however  feeble  he  might  be, 
who  had  a  friend  to  attend  his  wants,  or  render 
him  aid  of  any  kind.  The  only  advantage  gained 
by  going  into  one  of  these  buildings  was  shelter 
from  the  storms,  and  even  this  was  counterbal¬ 
anced  by  being  brought  into  immediate  contact 
with  such  masses  of  filth  and  contaminating 
disease  that  the  open  stockade  was  a  much  more 
decent  and  comfortable  place,  even  for  sick 
men  than  their  boasted  “Hospital." 

Nearly  all  the  prisoners  are  without  covering 
or  shelter  of  any  kind.  During  the  long,  chilly 
nights,  they  suffer  a  great  deal  from  cold, 
which,  during  the  day,  is  followed  by  the  other 
extreme  of  intense  heat  from  the  sun.  The  effect 
of  these  changes  upon  men  who  are  compara¬ 
tively  well,  is  to  impose  intense  suffering;  what 
must  it  be  to  the  poor  fellows  who  are  helpless 
from  disease?  The  rebel  surgeons  seem  to  give 
little  or  no  attention  to  the  sick.  They  go  the 
rounds  in  a  cold,  perfunctory  manner.  Very 
little  medicine  is  given.  Only  those  who  were  so 
far  gone  that  there  was  no  hope  for  a  cure 
received  the  least  attention  from  the  hospital 
surgeons.  Nearly  as  many  died  inside  the  stock- 


131 


ade,  without  having  received  any  medical  atten¬ 
tion  whatever,  as  in  the  hospital.  At  the  other 
hospital,  that  is,  the  frame  building,  the  same 
conditions  existed,  and  even  worse.  No  brushes, 
no  brooms,  were  ever  furnished  to  clean  the 
floors  and  walls.  The  nurses  could  not  even  pro¬ 
cure  water  enough  to  wash  the  faces  and  hands 
of  the  sick  and  dying  men.  There  they  lay,  right 
in  their  filth,  and  no  means  of  removing  either  it 
or  them.  No  pen  can  properly  describe  the  con¬ 
ditions;  God  onlv  can  see  and  understand  it. 

From  what  my  own  eyes  have  witnessed,  I 
am  compelled  to  believe  that,  with  very  few 
exceptions,  the  doctors  of  the  South  are  a  set  of 
inhuman  scoundrels,  unworthy  to  bear  the  dig¬ 
nified  title  of  “doctor.”  They  are  a  burning  dis¬ 
grace  to  that  honorable  profession.  Because  of 
their  utter  neglect  of  duty,  and  tlieir  inhuman 
treatment  of  the  sick,  so  loathsome  has  this 
place  become  that  it  is  next  to  impossible  for 
even  a  well  man  to  endure  it.  It  is  not  strange 
that  the  mortality  of  this  prison  is  greater  than 
that  of  Andersonville. 

The  policy  of  the  prison  authorities  now 
seems  to  be  to  force  us  to  join  the  rebel  army  by 
withholding  our  rations,  as  not  a  mouthful  of 
food  of  any  kind  have  they  given  us  since  yester¬ 
day.  But  the  great  majority  of  the  Union  pris- 

A* 

oners  are  determined  to  endure  torture  and  suf- 


132 


fering,  even  unto  death,  if  need  be,  rather  than 
prove  disloyal  to  the  old  flag. 

An  addition  is  being  built  to  the  brick  hos¬ 
pital  building  which,  rumor  says,  is  to  be  used 
as  a  bake-oven.  If  they  would  only  be  humane 
enough  to  take  the  main  building  for  a  bakery, 
bake  good  bread  and  plenty  of  it,  as  they  could 
if  they  would,  there  would  be  little  need  for  the 
hospital. 

Our  wood  for  cooking  and  heating  purposes 
is  received  in  the  following  manner:  A  squad 
of  men  is  detailed  each  morning  who  go  into  the 
woods  and  cut  down  green  pitch-pine  trees.  This 
wood  is  then  loaded  on  flat  cars  and  taken  to 
the  northwest  corner  of  the  stockade,  unloaded 
and  carried  within  the  stockade  about  150  yards 
distant.  Each  one  hundred  men  are  allowed 
what  three  men  can  carry  away  on  their  shoul¬ 
ders.  The  men  who  go  out  to  cut  the  wood  are 
guarded  like  prison  convicts.  This  break  in  the 
fearful  routine  of  prison  life  is  a  great  blessing 
to  the  men  who  are  detailed  to  go  out,  as  well 
as  to  their  friends  who  remain  inside,  because 
on  their  return  to  the  prison  from  work,  they 
are  permitted  to  take  blackberry  roots  in  with 
them,  which  we  find  to  be  an  excellent  remedy 
for  diarrhoea,  the  disease  being  very  prevalent 
among  the  prisoners.  The  men  wlm  are  detailed 


133 


to  cut  wood  receive  double  rations.  This  is  the 
greatest  inducement  of  all. 

Our  water  supply  is  brought  to  us  in  barrels, 
the  allowance  being  the  amount  that  two  men 
can  carry  in  a  barrel  for  every  100  men.  A  hole 
is  cut  through  the  staves  of  the  barrel,  into 
which  a  pole  is  put.  This  is  carried  by  two 
men  to  a  stream  about  200  yards  southeast  of 
the  stockade.  About  three  pails  of  water  is  an 
average  load  for  two  men  in  our  condition, 
twenty,  under  strong  guard.  Along  the  road  to 
These  water  carriers  go  out  in  squads  of  ten  and 
the  stream  are  numbers  of  citizens  who  are 
eager  to  trade  a  sweet  potato  or  corn  dodger  for 
a  Yankee  relic.  Wells  were  dug  in  the  stockade 
and  water  found  at  a  depth  of  eighteen  feet,  but 
the  wells  became  so  contaminated  with  filth 
that,  although  suffering  for  water,  as  we  often 
do,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  drink  it.  A  few 
deeper  wells  were  dug  on  higher  ground,  but 
even  these  became  so  contaminated  and  foul  that 
thev  were  rendered  useless.  When  the  reader 

t' 

will  bear  in  mind  that  there  was  no  arrange¬ 
ment  whatever  made  for  sewerage,  and  the 
prison  contained  a  population  of  from  1500  to 
2000  men  on  each  acre  of  ground,  some  idea  may 
be  had  of  the  vast  accumulation  of  filth  of  all 
kinds  which  covered  the  ground  and  saturated 
it  during  the  wet  season.  These  wells  became 

134 


the  only  and  most  natural  catcli-basins,  and 
their  condition  after  a  heavy  rain  may  be  better 
imagined  than  described. 

A  trench,  or  sink,  is  dug  along  the  east,  and 
some  ten  feet  from  the  inside  of  the  stockade 
fence.  It  is  about  three  feet  deep  and  four  feet 
wide,  and  it  is  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  some 
poor  fellow  fall  in  there  knee  deep  in  tilth.  Some 
idea  of  the  sanitary  conditions  of  the  grounds 
may  be  had  after  reading  the  following  order 
issued  to  the  guards,  copies  of  which  are  posted 
up  at  conspicuous  places  along  the  line: 

“C.  S.  Military  Prison 
Salisbury,  N.  C.,  Nov.  1,  1864. 

Sentinels  are  requested  to  shoot  down  all 
prisoners  in  the  future  who  are  seen  moving 
about  camp  after  taps. 

Major  -J.  H.  Gee,  Commanding.” 

Rations  were  issued  today  consisting  of  one 
pint  of  corn  meal,  musty  as  usual.  The  wood- 
squad  also  came  in  with  wood,  and  as  the  squad 
is  divided  up  into  so  many  messes,  it  makes  it 
necessary  to  divide  the  wood,  which  has  to  be 
worked  up  with  a  railroad  spike  and  a  case 
knife,  in  this  manner:  The  spike  is  driven  under 
a:  sliver  of  wood,  then  one  end  of  the  sliver  is 
cut  off  with  the  knife  and  a  mallet,  and  holding 
on  to  the  other  end,  it  is  pulled  off.  In  this 

135 


laborious  manner  green  pitcli-pine  logs,  eight 
and  ten  inches  in  diameter,  are  worked  up  and 
divided. 

Good  fortune  befell,  and  met  a  kind  citizen 
who  gave  me  a  plug  of  tobacco  for  a  gutta¬ 
percha  ring,  adorned  with  two  sets.  May  bless¬ 
ings,  many,  fall  upon  his  head. 

A  committee  was  appointed  today  to  confer 
with  the  Commander  of  the  prison,  with 
instructions  to  do  all  in  their  power  to  move 
him  to  allow  us  to  go  into  the  woods  and  cut 
pine  logs  with  which  to  build  barracks  and  huts 
for  shelter  from  the  storms  and  the  severitv  of 
the  weather.  The  grounds  around  the  stock¬ 
ade  are  covered  with  a  heavy  growth  of  pine 
timber,  and  with  a  little  work  we  could  soon 
build  huts  that  woul  shelter  all  the  poor  fel¬ 
lows  from  the  cold  and  bitter  wintry  winds.  The 
committee  reported  to  the  west  gate  and  sent 
word  by  a  sentinel  to  the  Commander  that  a 
committe  wished  to  confer  with  his  honor  (?)  on 
important  business.  The  sentinel  returned 
and  ordered  the  committe  to  follow  him.  They 
were  at  once  conducted  into  the  presence  of 
his  august  majesty,  to  whom  they  made  known 
their  business,  pledging  their  honor  that  no  one 
would  attempt  to  violate  his  parole  if  such  per¬ 
mission  was  granted  them.  The  doughty  Major 


136 


held  down  his  head,  looked  very  wise,  and  at 
last  broke  the  silence  by  saying: 

“No;  yonr  request  cannot  be  granted  for  two 
reasons.  1st.  It  will  destroy  our  forests.  2nd. 
You  fellows  can  live  without  houses  as  well  as 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley.” 

This  ended  the  interview,  and  the  committee 
returned  and  reported  the  Commander’s  answer, 
which  caused  great  grief  among  the  prisoners. 
Here  it  is  again.  It  seems  that  all  our  hard¬ 
ships  and  sufferings  are  due  to  the  unfortunate 
fact  that  we  were  captured  in  the  Shenandoah 
Valley.  I  wonder  if  any  of  us  should  be  so  for¬ 
tunate  as  to  be  permitted  to  knock  at  the 
“Golden  Gate,”  if  Peter  will  put  out  his  head 
and  say: 

“Depart,  ye  barn-burners!  Ye  were  captured 
in  the  Shenandoah  Valley!  Begone!” 

«y  <> 

But  if  St.  Peter  should  be  tempted  to  say  that 
to  us,  what  will  lie  not  say  to  the  miserable 
brute  who  rejected  our  reasonable  request  for 
permission  to  erect  some  kind  of  shelter  to  pro¬ 
tect  us  from  the  snow  and  frost  of  winter?  If 
the  righteous  (Union  prisoners)  can  scarcely  be 
saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly  (Gee)  and  the 
sinners  (the  rest  of  the  rebel  gang)  appear?” 
We  give  it  up,  but  anticipation  is  comforting. 

November  10th.  Last  night  about  dark  an 
event  took  place  which  nearly  caused  blood- 


137 


shed.  One  of  the  rebel  convicts  was  arrested 
and  taken  to  a  place  near  the  west  gate,  where 
he  was  lashed  to  a  tree,  his  body  stripped  naked, 
and  in  this  condition  he  was  unmercifully 
whipped  by  two  stout  Confederate  soldiers,  the 
entire  camp  looking  at  the  brutal  work  going 
on.  The  hot  blood  of  the  prisionors  was  up,  and 
all  resolved  to  die  rather  than  stand  by  and  see 
a  prisoner  whipped  in  such  a  brutal  manner  by 
miserable  slave-drivers.  The  guards  ordered  the 
crowd  to  disperse.  Excitement  ran  high,  when 
an  officer  stepped  to  tire  front  and  announced 
to  the  crowd  that  the  man  who  was  being 
whipped  was  ai  deserter  from  the  Confederate 
army,  and  he  was  being  punished  for  insulting 
an  officer.  Being  satisfied  that  the  officer  told 
the  truth,  the  crowd  dispersed.  I  did  not  want 
to  look  at  the  terrible  sight,  so  I  went  to  my  hut, 
but  I  could  plainly  hear  liis  piteous  appeals  for 
mercy.  I  knew  he  was  an  enemy  to  my  country, 
its  righteous  cause  and  beloved  Flag,  but  for  all 
that,  I  remembered  lie  was  a  human  being,  and 
his  appeals  for  mercy  went  to  my  very  soul,  as 
if  they  would  rend  it  asunder.  The  terrible 
punishment  lasted  until  the  cries  of  the  poor 
wretch  were  scarcely  audible,  wThen  the  surgeon 
who  was  watching  his  pulse  told  them  to  stop. 

The  recruiting  officer  is  at  his  place  again  as 
usual.  His  earnest  appeals  and  great  induce- 

138 


ments  won  Jerry  Daniels,  of  Company  “H,”  over 
to  liis  cause.  Jerry  came  to  liis  hole  in  the 
ground,  where  lie  had  a  sick  comrade  by  the 
name  of  Miller.  Jerry  said  to  him: 

“Jacob,  I  can’t  do  you  any  good  if  I  stay,  and 
I  will  desert  and  make  for  our  lines  the  first 
opportunity.  If  I  live  this  way  much  longer  I 
shall  die.  I  am  already  on  the  verge  of  insanity, 
and  before  I  get  too  weak  to  travel  I  will  try  to 
escape.  To  stay  here  is  certain  death.  I  will 
lose  nothing  by  leaving,  and  here,  now,  com¬ 
rade,  I  leave  you  my  piece  of  blanket.  That  is 
all  of  the  world's  goods  I  have.  It  will  do  you 
more  good  than  I  can  if  I  stay,  and  with  my 
blessing,  I  bid  you  farewell,  hoping  to  meet  you 
again  on  earth;  if  not,  I  hope  to  meet  you  on 
the  sunny  banks  of  Eternal  Deliverance,  where 
there  will  be  no  rebel  prisons  and  blood- 
hounds.'7 

They  bade  each  other  farewell,  and  it  was  the 
most  touching  and  affectionate  parting  between 
two  friends  I  ever  witnessed.  I  marched  up  to 
the  gate  with  poor  Jerry,  and  the  tears  came 
into  my  eyes  when  I  saw  him  march  out  under 
that  infamous  rebel  rag.  In  that  sad  moment 
I.  renewed  my  allegiance  to  the  dear  old  Flag, 
for  whose  honor  and  defense  I,  with  thousands 
of  others  were  suffering  untold  agonies.  I 
vowed  never  to  aid  its  enemies  to  the  value  of 


139 


anything,  or  to  the  extent  of  a  moment  of  time. 
When  Jerry  was  well  outside  the  stockade  he 

t/ 

turned  and  bade  us  all  farewell. 

The  work  on  the  bakery  is  progressing,  but 
not  speedily  enough  for  us.  The  chief  topic  of 
conversation  now  is  “Bread!”  We  have  been 
in  here  six  days  and  nothing  has  been  given  us 
to  eat  but  three  pints  of  coarse  meal,  cob  and  all 
ground  together,  and  so  musty  that  a  decent 
hog  would  not  eat  it.  This  having  been  the  day 
for  soliciting  recruits  for  the  rebel  army  from 
among  the  prisoners,  it  is  certain  we  are 
doomed  to  go  without  even  our  musty  meal. 

I  made  a  valuable  purchase  to-day  in  the 
shape  of  a  pair  of  small  pincers,  or  plyers.  They 
will  be  of  great  service  to  me  in  making  finger 
rings,  and  these,  in  turn,  will  enable  me  to  add 
to  my  scanty  store  of  tobacco,  food,  etc.  How 
fortunate  I  am  after  all! 


140 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Starving,  but  no  Rations — Manufacturing  Rub¬ 
ber  Rings — Wlio  Our  Guards  Are — A  Rival 
Business — Convicts  Again  Raid  the  Camp — 
Skirmishing  for  Game  (?)  Under  Difficulties — 
Connely  Meets  With  an  Accident — Trading — 
Cruelty  of  the  Prison  Authorities — Plenty, 
but  Starving — Another  Lot  of  “Fresh  Fish” 
Arrive— High  Living — “Bread!  Bread!! 
Bread!!!” — Miserable  Prisoners — The  Prison 
Authorities  Discover  a  Tunnel — A  Change  in 
Our  Rations — A  Rebel  Tour  of  Inspection. 

November  11th.  This  morning  finds  us 
nearly  famished,  no  rations  being  given  to  us 
since  day  before  yesterday.  In  this  way  the 
minions  representing  Jeff  Davis  and  his 
so-called  Government  wreak  vengeance  on 
Union  prisoners  who  will  not  consent  to  become 
traitors  to  their  Flag  by  enlisting  in  the  rebel 
army. 

I  commenced  the  manufacture  of  a  rubber 
ring  this  morning.  The  process  of  manufacture 
is  as  follows:  I  commence  by  taking  the  cen¬ 
ter  portion  of  a  fine-tooth  comb,  cutting  it  in 

141 


three  strips  about  one-fourth  of  an  inch  wide. 
These  strips  are  warmed  sufficiently  to  make 
them  pliable  like  leather,  and  are  then  wound 
round  a  stick  until  the  ends  meet.  Each  strip 
is  kept  on  the  stick  until  it  is  perfectly  cold,  so 
that  it  will  retain  its  circular  form.  Then  a  set 
is  put  on  the  ends,  a  place  having  been  cut  out 
sufficiently  large  and  deep  to  hold  it.  The  set 
is  made  secure  by  rivits  being  put  through  it 
and  clinched  on  the  inside  of  the  ring.  Then 
the  rubber  is  tiled  round  and  smooth,  the  set 
polished  and  the  article  is  ready  for  the  first 
vain  rebel  who  wants  to  possess  it.  These  rings 
sell  for  from  $5.00  to  $10.00  in  rebel  scrip.  A 
good  and  ready  market  is  found  for  them  in 

o  «y 

going  for  water,  many  citizens  being  eager  to 
buy  or  trade  for  them  as  relics  of  the  Yankee 
prisoners.  We  very  much  prefer  trading  them 
for  eatables  as  we  can  get  more  for  them  in  that 
way. 

Our  rations  of  meal  were  distributed  to  us 
today,  consisting  of  the  same  quantity  and 
quality.  We  received  the  welcome  news  that 
hereafter  our  rations  will  consist  of  bread, 
baked,  I  suppose,  in  the  new  oven,  and  will  be 
issued  to  us  daily.  If  these  promises  are  faith¬ 
fully  kept  we  shall  be  very  thankful,  but  we 
cannot  help  doubting  the  sincerity  of  their 
promises  and  intentions. 


142 


We  are  guarded  by  two  classes  of  rebel  sol- 
diers.  One  class  is  called  the  “Senior 
Reserves.  To  look  at  them,  one  would  con¬ 
clude  the  Confederate  authorities  had  been  rob¬ 
bing  the  graves  of  their  dead,  and  had,  by  some 
magical  process,  infused  life  into  the  skeletons, 
put  clothes  on  them,  armed  and  equipped  them, 
and  then  assigned  them  to  the  heavenly  (?)  task 
of  guarding  Yankee  prisoners,  and  shooting 
them  as  opportunity  offered.  They  are  old  men, 
and  would  show  us  some  compassion  if  they 
dared  to  do  it.  To  do  so  would  be  to  place  their 
own  lives  in  jeopardy. 

The  other  class  is  called  “The  Junior 
Reserves,”  and  one  could  easily  conclude  that 
the  cradles  of  Southern  homes  had  been  robbed 
to  get  them.  This  class  is  composed  of  boys 
ranging  from  15  to  18  years  of  age.  Of  course 
they  have  never  seen  actual  field  service,  and 
the  great  ambition  of  each  youngster  is  to 
“shoot  a  Yankee.”  They  watch  the  dead-line 
very  closely,  and  woe  be  to  the  poor  fellow  who 
either  willfully  or  accidentally  steps  on,  or  falls 
over,  the  prohibited  line.  A  flash,  a  fall,  a 
groan,  a  murder,  and  the  youthful  murderer 
receives  his  reward  by  being  called  a  “War¬ 
rior  !”  By  such  inducements  held  out  to  these 
boys,  our  enemies  give  many  a  Union  prisoner 
his  eternal  and  speedy  parole.  Will  not  the 

143 


blood  of  these  cruelly-murdered  men  curse  the 
very  soil  on  which  their  blood  has  fallen? 

I  have  two  rivals  in  the  relic-making  business 
— one,  Lewis  K.  Auringer,  of  the  81st  Pennsyl¬ 
vania  Infantry,  who  works  in  bone,  making 
bone  Bibles,  finger-rings,  cuff-buttons,  etc.  The 
other,  W.  B.  Hill,  of  Co.  “B,”  of  my  regiment, 
who  is  an  expert  in  making  wooden  spoons. 
His  wares  are  in  good  demand,  but  those  who 
need  his  goods  the  most  are  the  prisoners,  and 
they  have  not  the  money  with  which  to  buy. 

November  12th.  The  sick  are  increasing  with 
alarming  rapidity,  and  the  dead  likewise.  The 
record  of  yesterday’s  mortality  was  thirty-two 
corpses  taken  to  the  dead-house.  No  doubt 
the  terrible  exposure  and  lack  of  food  and 
proper  medicine  is  the  chief  cause  of  the 
increased  death-rate.  And  it  promises  to  grow 
worse  instead  of  better. 

Maj.  Gee  remarked  to-day  that  he  would  have 
us  all  in  hell  or  the  Confederate  army  in  thirty 
days. 

The  convict  prisoners  were  out  raiding  the 
camp  last  night.  They  robbed  two  men  of  their 
clothing  while  the  poor  fellows  were  walking 
about  to  keep  warm.  The  nights  are  getting 
very  cold  and  those  who  have  no  huts  to  shelter 
them  suffer  beyond  description.  One  problem 


144 


will  soon  be  solved,  viz.:  How  long  can  a  man 
live  on  one  pint  of  corn  meal  issued  to  him  every 
other  day,  and  compelled  to  tramp  about  all 
night  to  keep  up  animal  heat,  or  else  lie  down 
on  the  bare  ground  huddled  together  like  so 
many  swine?  The  solution  is  not  far  off. 

During  the  middle  of  the  day,  while  it  is 
warm,  the  poor  boys  may  be  seen  sitting  and 
supporting  their  poor,  emaciated  bodies  against 
a  tree  or  building,  shirts  and  pants  off,  trying  to 
rid  themselves  of  the  awful  vermin  which  are 
sucking  the  very  life-blood  out  of  them.  But 
even  this,  while  it  is  an  imperative  necessity,  is 
a  very  dangerous  proceeding — in  fact,  no  man 
dares  attempt  to  take  off  a  garment  for  any  pur¬ 
pose  unless  he  is  surrounded  by  friends  who 
will  protect  him;  and  even  then,  lie  must  sit  on 
one  end  of  the  garment  while  lie  is  skirmishing 
for  game  at  the  other  end.  If  this  precaution  is 
not  observed,  some  one  stronger  than  he  will 
soon  have  the  garment.  Such  occurrences  are 
so  frequent  that  we  have  to  look  upon  them  as 
scarcely  deserving  of  condemnation. 

The  ubiquitious,  and  exceedingly  annoying, 
recruiting  officer  is  out  and  at  work  again.  To 
us  who  refuse  to  accept  liis  invitations  and 
promised  rewards,  it  means  no  rations,  and  a 
further  fast  of  twTenty-foiir  hours.  But  let  it 


145 


come.  We  are  determined  to  die  rather  than 
prove  disloyal. 

Comrade  Connely  met  with  a  very  severe^  and 
painful  accident  to-day.  He  crushed  his*  thumb 
while  carrying  wood.  He  applied  for  aid  to  the 
prison  surgeon  and  got  some  salve  to  put  on  it. 
I  hope  it  will  not  prove  serious.  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  go  out  with  the  water-squad  to-day 
and  suceeded  in  trading  a  finger  ring  for  three 
sweet  potatoes,  whichvt  ate  raw.  I  also  cut  off 
two  brass  buttons  from  my  blouse  for  which  I 
got.  the  half  of  a  sweet  potato  pie.  From  its 
appearance  and  consistency  it  must  have  been 
baked  in  the  sun,  on  a  board.  It  was  nearly  as 
tough  as  rubber;  but  it  tasted  delicious.  While 
I  was  out  to-day  I  had  a  conversation  with  one 
of  the  guards,  and  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  from 
the  information  I  received  from  him,  that  there 
has  been  no  time  since  this  prison  was  opened, 
that  the  authorities  could  not  have  furnished 
the  prisoners  an  abundance  of  corn  meal  and 
bacon  were  they  so  disposed.  And  from  my 
own  observation,  I  know  they  could  have  fur¬ 
nished  us  with  abundance  of  lumber  with  which 
to  build  comfortable  huts  for  the  thousands  of 
shelterless  prisoners.  With  such  glaring  facts 
before  us,  is  it  not  reasonable  to  believe  that 
their  inhuman  treatment  was  willful  and  pre¬ 
meditated  cruelty?  It  was  a  part  of  their  plans 


146 


to  wreak  vengeance  for  their  disappointed 
hopes. 

November  13th.  The  dawning  of  this  morn¬ 
ing  brought  no  ray  of  cheer  or  comfort  to  the 
thousands  of  poor  fellows  who  are  compelled  to 
be  shelterless  and  exposed  to  the  cold,  drizzling 
rain  which  fell  during  the  night,  and  still  con¬ 
tinues  this  morning.  This  kind  of  weather 
greatly  increases  the  mortality  of  the  prison, 
where  men  have  no  shelter  to  protect  them  from 
the  weather.  When  they  get  sick  tliev  receive 
no  medical  treatment.  The  barbarity  of  our 
enemies  is  inexcusable  and  beyond  expression. 

Another  lot  of  what  they  lovingly  call  “fresh 
fish”  (these  are  “black  bass”),  arrived  to-day. 
About  300  colored  soldiers,  or,  to  use  the  favor¬ 
ite  southern  term,  “niggers,”  and  about  1,200  or 
1,300  white  soldiers  were  brought  in  to  become 
the  guests,  or  victims,  of  Major  Gee  and  his 
butchers.  Judging  from  their  appearance,  they 
must  have  come. over  the  same  route  we  trav¬ 
el  el.  They  are  only  half-clad,  barefooted,  bare¬ 
headed,  and  but  very  few  of  them  have  even  a 
blouse  left.  They  are  a  sorry,  forsaken  looking 
lot.  Bnt  how  will  they  look  after  they  have 
been  in  here  a  few  months?  The  young  guards 
are  making  all  the  fun  they  can  out  of  them  at 
our  expense,  asking  us  such  questions  as, 


117 


“Do  you’uns  want  an  introduction  to  your 
brothers?1’ 

The  number  within  this  stockade  at  the  pres¬ 
ent  time  is  about  12,000.  Our  rations  have 
come  again  consisting  of  corn  meal  after  the 
regulation  pattern,  or  Salisbury  Prison  stand¬ 
ard.  Nine  days  ago  we  came  to  this  rebel  hos- 
telery  and  during  that  time  only  five  pints  of 
coarse  corn  meal  have  been  given  to  us.  This 
comprises  the  entire  amount  of  food  supplied 
to  us  by  the  representatives  of  Jeff  Davis’  gov¬ 
ernment  who  are  supreme  in  authority  here. 
This  system  of  slow,  but  sure,  starvation  is  hav¬ 
ing  its  effect  in  rapidly  diminishing  our  num¬ 
bers.  The  prisoners  are  dying  at  the  rate  of 
twenty-five  and  thirty  a  day.  It  takes  a  man  of 
exceedingly  strong  constitution,  buoyant  hope 
and  cheerful,  enthusiastic  temperament  to  live 
under  such  conditions.  The  man  who  allows 
himself  to  become  depressed  and  gloomy  soon 
dies.  Two  poor  fellows  have  gone  totally 
insane,  but.  are  still  left,  within  the  enclosure; 
no  attempt  whatever  is  made  to  protect,  restrain 
or  give  them  relief.  They  run  around  the 
grounds  crying: 

6  ‘  Brea  d !  B  read ! !  B  rea  d ! ! !  ” 

This  one  word  they  scream  at  the  top  of  their 
voice.  Their  eyes  are  glassy,  their  walk 
unsteady.  They  are  indeed  objects  of  pity,  but 


148 


of  that  virtue  there  is  none  to  be  found  among 
the  rebel  officers  and  guards  of  Salisbury 
Prison.  A  more  desperate,  heartless  set  of 
fiends  never  walked  the  earth. 

The  most  pitiful  objects  among  the  prisoners 
are  those  men  who  have  no  friends  or  particular 
associates  in  the  prison.  Where  a  few  old 
acquaintances  have  been  able  to  keep  together, 
they  could  keep  up  at  least  a  semblance  of  cheer¬ 
fulness.  The  old  saying,  “Misery  loves  com¬ 
pany’'  may  or  may  not  be  true,  but  it  is  true  that 
men  who  have  been  associated  together  under 
better  and  more  favorable  conditions,  if  misfor¬ 
tune  chances  to  overtake  them,  are  able  to 
encourage  each  other,  enliven  the  surroundings, 
and  thus  make  their  fate,  however  distressing 
it  may  be,  more  bearable.  Not  so  with  those 
who  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  compelled  to 
bear  their  grief  and  endure  their  sufferings 
alone.  There  is  still  another  class  of  prisoners 
who  are  compelled  to  endure  agonies  unspeak¬ 
able — those  who  have  no  huts,  or  tents,  or  holes 
to  go  into,  but  are  forced  to  crawl  under  build¬ 
ings,  or  tramp  over  the  grounds  all  night  to  keep 
up  sufficient  warmth  to  save  them  from  freez¬ 
ing.  These  poor  fellows  suffer  the  most  because 
when  morning  comes,  instead  of  being  refreshed 
by  rest  and  sleep,  they  are  completely  exhausted 
and  worn  out. 


149 


To-day  the  prison  authorities  made  an  import¬ 
ant  discovery — a  tunnel  which  was  being  dug 
by  some  of  the  prisoners  for  the  purpose  of  aid¬ 
ing  them  to  escape.  To  avoid  any  such  opera¬ 
tions  hereafter,  the  authorities  have  stationed 
a  special  guard  of  fifteen  men  in  different  parts 
of  the  stockade  to  watch  the  prisoners  and  their 
movements.  While  “exchange  stock”  is  low, 
stock  in  tunnels  is  at  a  high  premium,  many  a 
poor  fellow  imagining  he  can  see  Paradise  in  all 
its  glory  through  a  tunnel.  Alas!  how  few  live 
to  see  their  hopes  realized. 

November  14th.  Morning  lias  again  dawned, 
a  little  brighter  so  far  as  Nature  can  make  it, 
than  yesterday  morning,  but  presenting  the 
same  blank,  cheerless,  hopeless  aspect.  The 
rebel  raiders  were  abroad  again  last  night,  and 
had  a  high  time  stripping  the  dead,  robbing  the 
poor  colored  prisoners  of  what  few  remnants  of 
blankets  were  left  to  them  by  the  other  rebel 
raiders,  their  captors.  Their  opportunity  for 
raiding  these  unfortunates  was  favorable  to  suc¬ 
cess,  as  the  poor  fellows,  not  expecting  such 
raids  from  those  whom  they  supposed  to  be  fel¬ 
low-prisoners,  had  divided  themselves  into 
small  groups  and  laid  down  wherever  an  open¬ 
ing  could  be  found.  Such  small  groups  not 
being  able  to  defend  themselves  against  the 

150 


onsets  of  the  stronger  force  of  raiders,  they  were 
easily  robbed  of  whatever  they.  had.  It  is 
wretched  enough  to  be  in  here  as  a  white  pris¬ 
oner,  but  to  be  a  “nigger”  prisoner  is  to  be  sub¬ 
jected  to  brutality  and  cruelty  indescribable.  It 
is  a  heart-breaking  sight  to  see  these  poor  fel¬ 
lows,  the  colored  soldiers,  this  morning  almost 
destitute  of  everything  in  the  shape  of  blankets 
and  coats.  As  the  weather  is  fast  increasing  in 
severity  their  sufferings  will  be  beyond 
endurance. 

A  change  was  made  in  the  rations  issued 
to-day.  Instead  of  the  usual  ration  of  meal, 
baked  bread  was  given  to  us,  but  it  is  made  out 
of  the  same  material  heretofore  given  to  us.  The 
loaves  are  said  to  weigh  one  pound  each,  and 
one  loaf  is  divided  between  two  men.  What 
this  means  may  be  understood  when  I  declare  on 
my  honor  as  a  soldier,  that  the  entire  loaf  would 
not  be  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  hunger  of  one 
man;  what  must  it  be  when  it  is  divided  between 
two?  To  make  matters  worse,  the  bread  is  only 
half  baked,  is  sour  and  musty,  and  inside  the 
loaf  is  corn  as  raw  and  hard  as  when  first 
ground. 

Some  of  the  officers  took  a  walk  through  the 
prison  to  day  on  a  tour  of  inspection.  If  they 
were  men  possessed  of  any  souls  or  consciences 

151 


they  must  have  seen  sights  that  would  haunt 
them  with  remorse  until  their  dying  day.  But 
there  is  no  danger  of  any  thoughts  or  feelings  of 
pity  entering  their  minds.  How  I  do  wish  they 
were  compelled  to  live  as  we  have  to  live,  and 
subsist  on  the  rations  we  have  to  subsist  on! 
Possibly  they  might  then  be  induced  to  order 
better  conditions  and  more  food  for  the  pris¬ 
oners — if  they  were  the  prisoners. 


152 


1 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Cold,  Naked  and  Shelterless — Lime-Raised 

Bread  to  Eat — A  Sutler — Patrols  in  Search 
of  Tunnels — News  of  Lincoln’s  Re-election — 
A  Joyful  Night — Burying  the  Dead — A  Side 
Dish— Bread-Coffee — A  Visit  to  the  Dead 
House — Rations  Diminishing  in  Quantity  but 
Increasing  in  Strength— The  Recruiting 
Officer  Changes  Hi<s  Tactics — The  Location  of 
a  Tunnel  Betrayed — The  Betrayer  Found — 
Rewarded — Deaths  in  the  Stockade — A  Col¬ 
ored  Prisoner  Shot  by  the  Guards — Robbed 
Again. 

November  15th.  Last  night  was  very  cold, 
and  this  morning  a  cold,  blood-chilling  wind  is 
blowing  from  the  north.  Things  have  come  to 
such  a  state  with  us  that  it  is  absolutely  neces¬ 
sary  to  strip  the  dead  to  relieve  the  needs  of  the 
living.  It  looks  inhuman  to  carry  the  poor, 
dead  bodies  to  the  dead  house  naked,  but  it  is 
only  fulfilling  the  scripture  which  says,  in  sub¬ 
stance,  “we  brought  nothing  into  this  world 
with  us,  and  we  shall  carry  nothing  out  of  it.” 


The  Scripture  lias  its  literal  fulfillment  in  the 
condition  in  which  we  find  ourselves  here — for 
sure  we  brought  nothing  in  with  us  (the  theiv- 
ing  rebels  having  robbed  us  of  all  we  had,  and 
from  the  appearance  of  the  dead  bodies  brought 
to  the  dead  house,  it  is  certain  they  will  take 
nothing  out  of  here  with  them,  because  they  are 
carried  out  and  buried  as  naked  as  when  they 
were  born. 

Eations  of  bread,  the  same  as  yesterday,  were 
issued  to-day.  However,  the  bread  had  an  addi¬ 
tional  ingredient  in  it  which  we  were  not 
expecting.  We  wondered  where  the  yeast  came 
from  to  raise  the  bread,  but  to-day’s  rations 
solved  the  mystery.  Crocker  and  I  drew  our 
rations  together — one  loaf  for  both  of  us — and 
when  we  divided  it,  lo!  to  our  amazement,  we 
found  a  piece  of  pure,  genuine  lime,  about  the 
size  of  a  hickory  nut  in  it.  The  bread  is  flavored 
so  strong  with  the  lime  that  we  can  scarcely  eat 
it.  It  is  of  a  yellowish  color,  like  a  piece  of  pine 
soaked  in  lye,  and  it  is  nearly  as  strong.  If  the 
cook  puts  this  lime  in  the  bread  to  make  it  light 
and  spongy,  like  pound-cake,  or  “angel-food,” 
they  made  a  miserable  failure  of  it,  because  the 
bread  is  soggy,  heavy  and  strong  enough  to 
make  soap.  What  effect  it  will  have  on  our 
poor,  empty  stomachs,  time  alone  can  tell.  One 
thing  is  in  our  favor,  there  is  nothing  left  inside 


154 


us  for  the  lime  to  work  on — fortunate  are  we, 
after  all! 

Good  news  reached  us  to-day  through  one 
of  the  old  prison  guards — Abraham  Lincoln 
has  been  re-elected  President.  The  news  was 
hailed  with  lusty  cheers  inside  the  prison,  and 
were  responded  to  with  jeers  from  the  outside. 
They  know  that  with  President  Lincoln  in  the 
White  House  at  Washington  and  Grant  in  com¬ 
mand  of  the  armies  in  the  field  the  doom  of  the 
traitorous  South  is  sealed.  Nothing  but 
“unconditional  surrender”  will  be  accepted — 
and  it  must  come  very  soon. 

November  16th.  A  Sutler  established  his 
headquarters  in  a  tent  within  the  stockade 
to-day.  His  price-list  is  posted  up  at  the  door 
of  his  tent  and  is  as  follows: 


Potatoes,  per  bushel  . $40.00 

Onions,  per  bushel . . .  50.00 

Rice,  per  lb . 2.00 

Salt,  per  lb .  1.00 

Corn  bread,  per  1  lb.  loaf .  5.00 

Black  pepper,  per  oz . 5.00 

Bacon,  per  lb.  . .  . .  5.00 

Sugar,  per  lb .  1-00 

Tobacco,  per  lb .  5.00 


If  we  only  had  plenty  of  rebel  scrip  we  might 

155 


live  like  kings,  but  as  we  have  not,  I  fear  liis 
majesty  will  do  a  slim  trade. 

Rations  are  coming  in  now  with  commend¬ 
able  regularity,  but  the  stuff  they  call  bread  is 
so  strong  with  lime  that  a  dog  would  have  to 
be  on  the  verge  of  starvation  before  he  would 
eat  it  and  even  then  he  would  not,  because  he 
could  not.  A  starving  Union  prisoner  will  feast 
on  what  a  starving  dog  would  refuse.  What 
tliev  mean  by  making  it  this  way  is  more  than 
we  can  tell.  We  would  much  prefer  the  raw 
meal  as  they  formerly  issued  it  to  us. 

The  guards  now  make  special  patrols  of  the 
camp  in  search  of  tunnels,  but  fortunately  they 
do  not  stav  inside  the  stockade  during  the 
night.  The  workmen  are  busy  in  the  tunnels 
during  the  hours  of  the  night.  The  dirt  is  car¬ 
ried  out  in  a  shirt  or  coat,  tied  like  a  sack,  and 
is  scattered  over  the  grounds.  It  is  then  covered 
with  surface  dirt  so  as  to  disguise  it,  because 
the  dirt  which  is  taken  out  of  the  interior  of  the 
tunnel  is  a  red,  hard  clay,  and  is  easily  dis¬ 
tinguished  from  the  surface  dirt.  It  is  scattered 
by  throwing  a  small  quantity  in  a  place,  and 
when  it  becomes  muddy  the  tunnel  dirt  is  mixed 
up  with  the  surface  dirt  which  hides  it.  In  this 
way  the  opening  of  the  tunnel  is  kept  from  the 
prying  eyes  of  the  guard. 


156 


November  17th.  The  Sergeants  in  command 
of  the  squads,  and  whose  duty  it  is  to  draw 
rations,  have  their  rendezvous  in  one  of  the 
small  tenement  houses.  Thev  were  having  a 
jubilee  last  night,  the  news  of  President  Lin¬ 
coln's  re-election  being  confirmed.  They  were 
making  speeches,  singing  “The  Star  Spangled 
Banner,”  and  other  national  airs,  and  were 
having  a  good  time  generally,  when  their  jollity 
was  brought  to  a  sudden  close  by  one  of  the 
guards  ordering  them  to  stop.  He  then  fired 
into  the  building,  wounding  one  of  the  ser¬ 
geants. 

Jacob  Miller,  Daniel’s  comrade,  died  last 
night  and  was  taken  to  the  dead  house  this  fore¬ 
noon.  The  light  has  gone  out  in  one  more  north¬ 
ern  home,  but  if  the  loved  ones  in  that  home, 
when  the  sad  news  reaches  them,  could  only 
know  from  what  an  awful  living  hell  death  has 
released  their  loved  one,  they  would  sing  songs 
of  praise  to  God  instead  of  weeping  tears  of 
sorrow. 

I  went  out  with  the  water  squad  to-day  and, 
through  the  kindness  of  the  gray-beard  guards, 
we  went  to  the  creek  by  way  of  the  grave  yard. 
We  were  there  while  they  were  unloading  the 
dead,  and  hardened  as  we  were  to  sights  of 
suffering  and  acts  of  inhuman  treatment  among 
the  living  ,the  scenes  at  the  grave  yard  were 


157 


such  as  made  the  blood  almost  run  cold  in  our 
veins.  There  were  twelve  or  fifteen  corpses 
piled  on  the  wagon,  laid  in  like  hogs,  and 
entirely  destitute  of  covering  of  any  kind.  Two 
men  stood  on  the  wagon  and  each  taking  hold 
of  a  foot  and  a  hand  of  a  corpse,  would  give  it  a 
swing  or  two  and  then  heave  it  headlong  into 
the  trench,  piling  them  up  three  or  four  deep, 
and  hastily  covering  them  over  with  a  few 
shovels  full  of  dirt  This  was  a  sight  I  had 
never  witnessed  before,  and  I  hope  I  will  never 
be  called  on  to  witness  again. 

Mothers  and  fathers  of  the  North,  think  of 
your  beloved  children;  wives  think  of  your 
darling  husbands,  who  went  forth  to  defend 
the  Flag  and  the  Nation  that  treason  and  rebel¬ 
lion  might  be  beaten  back,  and  while  engaged 
in  this  righteous  and  honorable  duty,  taken 
prisoners,  transported  to  a  rebel  prison,  starved 
to  death  and  then  buried  in  this  manner  !  What 
shall  we  say  when  asked  to  forgive  and  forget 
the  people  who  so  cruelly  and  needlessly  com¬ 
mitted  these  barbarous  acts?  What  man  or 
women,  whose  sense  of  right,  justice  and  honor 
is  not  entirely  dead,  could  witness  such  a  sight 
as  this  and  then  forget  it  or  forgive  it?  It  might 
be  possible  to  forgive,  but  to  ask  me  to  forget  it 
is  to  ask  me  to  become  dead  to  my  own  exist¬ 
ence.  No,  forget  it  we  never  can!  To  do  so 


158 


would  not  be  consistent  with  human  nature.  I 
expect  to  remember  this  terrible  scene  as  Ions 
as  I  live,  and  not  only  will  I  carry  it  in  my  own 
memory,  but  I  will  teach  it  to  the  rising  gen¬ 
eration  that  they  too  may  remember  it.  I  want 
them  to  know  what  sufferings  while  living  and 
what  shame  and  indignities  when  dead  were 
heaped  upon  the  brave  men  who  went  into  the 
nation's  battles  from  1861  to  1865,  and  were 
taken  prisoners  and  incarcerated  in  southern 
prison  pens.  I  want  them  to  know  why  and 
how  these  numberless,  nameless  graves  were 
filled  with  noble,  patriot  soldiers.  And  as  we 
hand  the  old  Flag  down  to  coming  generations 
without  spot  or  blemish  on  it,  honored  and 
respected  by  all  nations,  may  they  imbibe  the 
patriotism  of  their  fathers  and  maintain  the 
honor,  integrity  and  safety  of  the  Flag  and 
Nation  against  all  foes  at  home  and  abroad. 

November  18th.  The  Nations  issued  to  us 
to-day  had  a  “side-dish”  attached  to  them,  made 
out  of  the  offals  of  the  beeves  butchered  for  the 
rebel  troops  at  this  garrison.  We  got  the  hearts, 
livers,  lungs  and  heads,  and  if  my  readers  are 
skillful  in  counting  infinitestimal  fractions  they 
may  be  able  to  compute  how  much  of  the  side- 
dish  fell  to  each  man.  As  a  basis  for  your  cal¬ 
culation  I  will  tell  you  that  my  friend  Connely 
got  one  eye  of  a  beef  for  his  share,  and  the  other 


159 


rations  were  in  proportion.  I  presume  they 
would  have  thrown  in  the  hides  of  the  animals, 
but  in  the  decaying  Confederacy  leather  com¬ 
mands  a  high  premium  just  now.  This  is  the 
first  time  meat  of  any  kind  lias  been  given  to  the 
prisoners — not  even  bean  or  pea  soup  has  been 
supplied — nothing  but  raw  meal,  or  half-done, 
lime-raised  corn  bread,  lias  been  given  to  us 
to  eat.  Since  we  have  had  bread  issued  to  us 
we  utilize  some  of  it  for  coffee  in  this  way:  We 
cut  a  slice  off  the  loaf  and  hold  it  at  the  fire 
until  it  is  well  done.  Then  we  put  it  in  an 
oyster  can  full  of  water  and  boil  it.  This  we 
call  our  “coffee.”  It  is  a  weak  substitute  for 
the  genuine  article,  but  it  gives  us  a  good,  warm 
drink,  which  is  quite  a  luxury  to  our  poor,  cold, 
shivering  bodies. 

A  visit  to  the  dead  house  this  afternoon 
revealed  forty-three  ghastly,  emaciated  bodies. 
The  deaths  are  becoming  so  numerous  that  the 
dead  wagon  is  kept  busy  all  the  afternoon  haul¬ 
ing  the  dead  to  the  trenches  outside  the  stock¬ 
ade.  This  wagon  is  utilized  for  more  purposes 
than  hauling  out  the  dead;  it  is  also  used  to  haul 
in  our  rations  of  bread  every  forenon,  and  the 
only  cleansing  it  gets  is  the  evaporation,  or 
hardening  of  the  execrations  which  exude  from 
the  dead  bodies,  during  the  night  when  it  is  not 
in  use.  They  say  the  more  the  wagon  hauls  out 

160 


tlie  less  it  will  have  to  haul  in,  but  they  forget 
that  this  rule  works  both  ways,  because  the  less 
amount  of  bread  the  wagon  hauls  iu  the  greater 
the  number  of  dead  it  will  have  to  haul  out. 

November  19th.  Our  rations  of  bread  come 
to  us  with  unbroken  regularity,  but  the  size  of 
the  loaves  is  gradually  diminishing  while  their 
strength  is  constantly  increasing.  The  more  I 
see  of  this  Salisbury  Prison  bread,  the  more  I 
am  impressed  with  the  belief  that  lime,  as  a 
substitute  for  the  old-fashioned  yeast  of  our 
mothers  is  a  sad  failure.  At  least,  it  does  not 
succeed  in  raising  corn-cob  meal.  However,  it 
does  make  stronger  coffee — but  weaker  stom¬ 
achs.  I 

The  mustering  officer,  representing  Jeff 
Davis’  government  at  this  recruiting  station, 
lias  changed  his  tactics.  Heretofore  he  has  car¬ 
ried  on  his  work  of  trying  to  get  Union  prison¬ 
ers  to  prove  traitors  to  their  Flag  by  enlisting  in 
the  rebel  army,  before  rations  were  issued.  Now 
he  carries  on  his  work  after  they  are  issued. 
Perhaps  lie  thinks  we  are  in  better  humor  and 
more  pliable  after  their  miserable  limed 
bread  has  begun  to  get  in  its  work  on  our  stom- 
aclis.  Or  it  may  be  lie  imagines  we  will  be  wil¬ 
ling  to'  enlist  to  escape  living  any  longer  on  such 
miserable,  deadly  stuff.  Whether  these  con¬ 
jectures  are  right  or  wrong,  it  is  evident  he 

161 


thinks  the  eating  our  rations,  poor  as  they  are, 
will  have  some  influence  in  making  us  more 
susceptible  to  his  loving  appeals  and  highly-col¬ 
ored  promises.  He  has  been  trying  hard  today 
to  get  a  few  blacksmiths  to  enlist  in  his  army, 
but  so  far  lie  has  not  found  any  wlm  are  willing 
to  disgrace  their  manhood  by  turning  traitors  to 
the  Flag  they  swore  to  defend  against  all  its 
enemies. 

The  location  of  a  tunnel  was  made  known  to 
the  officer  of  the  rebel  guards  by  a  poor,  starved 
wretch  who  hoped  to>  profit  by  the  betrayal  of 
liis  friends.  The  tunnel  was  nearly  completed 
to  the  outside  of  the  stockade,  and  its  discovery 
was  a  terrible  disappointment  to  the  poor  fel¬ 
lows  who  had  toiled  so  many  long  and  weary 
nights  with  the  hope  of  effecting  their  escape 
through  it.  The  rebel  authorities  let  the 
betrayer  out  of  the  stockade  on  parole  of  honor, 
because  his  life  was  in  danger  while  he 
remained  inside.  A  squad  of  negroes  were 
brought  in  who  opened  the  tunnel  from  the  top 
and  filled  it  up.  So  sure  were  the  men  who  had 
beeni  working  in  it  that  they  were  beyond  the 
danger  point  of  discovery,  and  their  escape  was 
only  a  question  of  a  few  hours,  that  they  had 
already  begun  to  anticipate  the  sweets  of  lib¬ 
erty,  and  speculate  as  to  the  line  of  “under 
ground  railroad”  they  should  travel  on.  But, 

1(32 


alas!  what  won’t  a  starving  man  do  to  sustain 
life  a  little  longer?  The  betrayal  of  these  com¬ 
rades  was  base  and  inexcusable,  and  yet,  the 

* 

man  who  was  guilty  of  the  betrayal  to  better 
his  own  condition,  was  not  low  and  base  enough 
to  consent  to  save  himself  by  taking  the  o$th  of 
allegiance  to  the  Southern)  Confederacy.  So  he 
had  some  sense  of  honor  left  in  him  after  all. 

November  20th.  This  morning  one  of  the 
prisoners  who  was  lying  out  in  the  mud,  having 
no  shelter  or  bedding  to  lie  on,  died,  and  some 
one  took  the  liberty  of  appropriating  what  few 
articles  of  clothing  he  had  on  him,  which,  as 
may  well  be  supposed,  were  very  scanty.  Two 
of  the  citizen  prisoners  died  last  night.  When 
these  are  hauled  out  to  be  buried  we  dignify 
them  with  the  name  “funerals,”  because  the 
bodies  of  the  citizen  prisoners  are  encased  in  a 
square  pine  box,  called  a  “coffin,”  and  are  taken 
to  their  burial  one  at  a  time.  The  rest  of  the 
poor  fellows,  when  they  die,  are  piled  into  the 
dead  wagon  as  long  as  the  bodies  will  stay  on  it, 
and  are  buried  in  the  manner  described  in  a 
former  chapter. 

Charley  Bowen  caught  a  mouse  this  morning, 
dressed  it,  and  while  boiling  his  burned  bread 
for  coffee,  dropped  his  “fresh  meat”  into  it  and 
had  a  combination)  of  boiled  limed,  corn¬ 
cob  meal  bread,  coffee  and  mouse  soup,  which 

163 


lie  pronounced  one  of  the  most  delicious  dishes 
he  had  ever  eaten  since  becoming  a  guest  of  Jeff 
Davis  at  his  Hotel  de  Salisbury. 

About  2  o’clock  this  afternoon  one  of  the  col¬ 
ored  prisoners  was  shot  while  walking  along 
the  dead-line,  by  one  of  the  young  guards.  Those 
who  witnessed  the  tragic  event  say  the  unfortu¬ 
nate  victim  of  this  young  rebel’s  murderous 
hate  was  at  least  four  feet  away  from  the  dead¬ 
line.  The  least  pretext  whatever  is  sufficient 
for  these  young  scoundrels  to  shoot  a  prisoner, 
whether  white  or  black. 


November  21st.  Some  of  the  prisoners  had 
boxes  of  supplies  shipped  to  them  from  home 
and  they  were  delivered  to  them  within  the 
stockade  todav.  But  before  the  authorities 
would  allow  them:  to  be  delivered  each 
box  had'  to  be  opened  and  its  contents 
thoroughly  inspected,  and  during  the  exam¬ 


ination  the  larger  share  of  its  contents 
were  stolen.  The  little  that  was  allowed  to 
remain  until  it  reached  its  rightful  owner,  was 
so  helpful  that  many  of  the  boys  have  been 
encouraged  to  write  to  their  friends  to  send 
them  aid.  If  one-half  the  requests-  that  have 
been  sent  out  are  answered,  the  inspector  of 
this  new  department  will  live  fat,  as  nothing  is 
allowed  to  go  out  or  come  in  without  being 
thoroughlv  examined.  All  letters  received  from 


164 


friend  sat  home  are  opened  and  read  before  being 
delivered;  and  all  letters  sent  out  from  the 
prison  must  be  confined  to  six  lines,  a  Confeder¬ 
ate  stamp  attached  to  the  letter,  the  letter  to  be 
left  unsealed  and  delivered  to  their  post  office 
department  near  the  south  gate.  If  nothing 
objectionable  is  found  in  the  letter  it  is  sealed 
up  and  forwarded  to  our  lines,  from  whence  it 
is  forwarded  to  its  destination,  free  of  charge, 
by  a  grateful  Government. 


165 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Tunnel  Stock  Above  Par — Blood  Hounds  in 
Readiness — Hungry,  Cold  and  Heart-sick — 
Still  Trying  to  Enlist  Prisoners- — Becoming 
Desperate — A  Break  for  Liberty  Being  Organ¬ 
ized — Mortality  Increasing — No  Rations — A 
Break  for  Liberty — A  Reign  of  Death  and  Ter¬ 
ror — Trying  to  Relieve  the  Wounded — Ter¬ 
rible  and  Revolting  Scenes. 

November  22nd.  The  most  exciting  topic  of 

conversation  now  is  “Tunnels.”  Tunnel  stock 

is  running  high.  Those  who  have  become 

“stockholders”  in  these  enterprises  talk  only  of 

the  adventures  they  will  have  when  they  have 

•  1 

crawled  through  the  opening  on  the  other  side 
of  the  stockade.  Plans  are  being  laid  for  escap¬ 
ing  the  terrible  blood  hounds  which  are  sure  to 
be  put  on  the  track  of  any  prisoner  who  is  found 
to  be  missing.  The  rebels  are  equally  prepared 
for  and  confident  of  thwarting  any  designs  or 
enterprises  of  this  kind.  A  large  kennel  of 
fierce  blood  hounds  is  kept  near  the  stockade 
and  outside  the  camp  limits,  for  the  purpose  of 

166 


chasing  any  Yankee  prisoner  who  may  be  bold 
and  venturesome  enough  to  attempt  to  escape 
from  the  clutches  of  these  human  blood  hounds. 
These  dogs  are  taken  each  morning  in  a  circuit¬ 
ous  route  around1  the  stockade  and  entire  camp, 
and  if  any  prisoner  has  escaped  during  the 
night  and  lias  passed  outside  of,  or  crossed  their 
route,  they  very  soon  detect  it  and  are  on  the 
trail  in  hot  pursuit.  Then  begins  a  gala  day  for 
those  who  have  the  hounds  and  the  hunting 
expedition  in  charge.  If  the  fleeing  fugitives 
are  overtaken  by  the  hounds,  their  only  safety 
is  to  climb  a  tree  or  •surrender  themselves’  to 
some  planter  where  the  dogs  will  remain  until 
the  officers,  sometimes  numbering  a  dozen  or 
more,  arrive  and  the  prisoner  is  again  taken  into 
custody.  When  the  Yank  is  overtaken  and 
once  more  in  their  power,  the  merriment  begins. 
He  is  compelled  to  march  back  to  the  prison  ahead 
of  the  blood  hounds,  and  he  is  warned  that  his 
life  depends  on  his  own  ability  to  keep  out  of 
reach  of  the  brutes.  His  captors  are  on  horse¬ 
back  and  making  all  kinds  of  threats',  telling  the 
prisoner  that  is  the  way  they  bring  back  run¬ 
away  niggers  and  Yankees.  This  is  called 
“Southern  chivalry!”  Its  more  proper  name  is 
“Southern  barbarity  and  deviltry  !” 

November  23rd.  The  dawning  of  this  morn¬ 
ing  brought  us  suffering  beyond  the  power  of 

167 


words'  to  express.  We  are  hungry,  cold  and 
heart-sick.  For  some  reason  unknown  to  us  we 
were  allowed  to  go  without  any  rations — noth¬ 
ing  to  eat  since  day  before  yesterday.  This  lack 
of  food  and  exposure  to  the  intense  cold,  is 
increasing  the  number  of  sick,  which,  of  course, 
means  a  large  increase  in  the  death-roll.  The 
lime  with  which  the  rebel  cooks  attempt  to  raise 
the  bread  they  give  us  to  eat  is  having  its  nat¬ 
ural  effect  on  the  prisoners.  The  stomachs  of 
some  have  become  so  affected  that  they  cannot 
retain  the  bread,  while  others  have  such  sore 
mouths  that  they  cannot  eat  the  bread  except 
by  breaking  it  into  very  small  pieces,  soaking 
and  boiling  it,  and  then  eating  it  with  a  spoon. 
The  teeth  of  many-  have  become  loose,  and  in 
some  instances,  have  fallen  out.  Such  are  the 
dreadful  results  arising  from  the  very  food  these 
monsters  are  giving  us  to  subsist  on. 

The  mustering  officer  made  liis  appearance 
again  to-day  and  has  been  using  all  his  powers 
of  persuasion  and  flattery,  backed  up  by  great 
promises,  to  induce  the  prisoners  to  enlist  in  his 
miserable,  rebel  army.  His  offers  to-day  were, 
one  hundred  dollars  Confederate  money,  three 
bushels  of  sweet  potatoes',  full  rations  and 
twenty  dollars  per  month.  This  is  a  strong 
temptation  to  men  who  are  starving  to  death, 
especially  when  they  know  there  is  no  hope 

168 


whatever  of  a  change  in  their  condition,  unless 
death  make  it.  To  suffer  day  after  day,  hope¬ 
less,  starving,  perishing,  while,  by  a  single  act 
the  whole  aspect  of  life  might  be  changed  to 
comparative  comfort  and  plenty  is  a  severe  test 
of  patriotism  and  loyalty.  But  that  act  would 
mean  treason  to  the  Flag  we  swore  to  defend. 
And  it  is  wonderful  to  see  with  what  determin¬ 
ation  and  scorn  these  slowly-murdered  men 
reject  the  alternative.  Death  any  time  and  in 
any  way!  Treason  and  disloyalty,  never! 

The  day  has  nearly  closed  and  nothing  lias 
been  given  us  to  eat.  Excitement  is  at  fever- 
heat.  The  prisoners  are  gathering  in  groups  all 
over  the  stockade  .and  are  becoming  desperate. 

The  question  is  discussed,  “Must  we  yield  to  this 
barbarous  treatment  without  making  an  effort 
of  some  kind  in  our  own  behalf?’7  But  what 
can  men  in  our  forlorn  situation  do?  Guarded 
by  men  whose  greatest  delight  is  to  find  some 
excuse,  even  the  slightest,  for  shooting  us  down 
like  dogs;  loaded  cannon  trained  so  as  to  sweep 
every  part  of  the  camp;  in  the  clutches  of  men 
who  are  deaf  to  all  appeals  of  mercy  and  jus¬ 
tice;  no  possible  way  of  letting  our  Government 
and  friends  know  of  the  inhuman  manner  in 
which  we  are  being  treated — what  can  we  do? 
Nothing!  Only  wait,  suffer,  starve  and  die, 


169 


unless  a  just  and  merciful  God  in  some  way 
interposes  for  our  relief. 

November  24tli.  This  is  a  cold,  disagreeable 
morning.  Starvation,  anxiety  and  suffering  are 
depicted  on  every  face.  “Bread!  Bread!”  This 
is  the  cry  and  talk  of  famishing  men  by  day — it 
tills  their  dreams  by  night.  Well,  the  bread  has 
come  at  last,  but  in  quantity  wholly  insufficient 
to  satisfy  our  hunger;  in  quality,  strong  with 
lime  as  usual.  Poor  and  poisonous  as  it  is,  the 
poor,  famishing  men  devour  it  as  rapidly  and 
voraciously  as  a  ravenous  beast  would  its  prey. 

There  is  considerable  whispering  going  on 
among  the  prisoners  about  making  a  concerted 
rush  for  one  of  the  gates,  breaking  it. down  ana 
gaining  our  liberty  if  we  can,  or  dying,  if  we 
must.  Any  fate  is  preferable  to  living  in  this 
way.  The  great  majority  are  determined  to 
remain  loyal  to  our  country  and  our  Flag.  If  it 
must  be  death  by  starvation  or  by  the  bullet, 
the  latter  is  our  first  choice.  Hence,  prepara¬ 
tions  and  plans  are  being  seriously  and  care¬ 
fully  made  for  an  outbreak.  While  there  is  no 
definite  leader  appointed,  yet  a  number  of  the 
Sergeants  commanding  the  squads,  among 
whom  were  McBride  of  the  15th  U.  S.  Infantry; 
McManus,  of  New  York;  Dunnecliffe,  of  Phila¬ 
delphia,  Pa.;  Spillane,  of  New  York;  Keys',  of 
the  14th  U.  S.  Infantry;  Murray,  of  a  Maryland 


170 


regiment;  Carrol,  of  the  45th  Pennsylvania 
Infantry;  Sullivan,  of  the  2nd  Massachusetts 
Infantry;  D.  H.  Sheehan,  20th  Michigan  Infan¬ 
try;  the  Sergeant  Major  of  the  27th  Michigan 
Infantry,  and  others,  consulted  together  and 
made  some  plans,  but  it  seemed  to  be  impossible 
to  get  any  concert  of  action.  The  majority  of 
the  prisoners  look  upon  the  movement  as  a  very 
unwise  one,  and  the  discussion  of  plans  creates 
so  much  excitement  and  discord  that  the  friends 
of  the  movement  fear  the  rebel  authorities  will 
discover  our  intentions  and  take  measures  to 
defeat  us. 

Night  brings  its  shadows  and  darkness,  but 
instead  of  bringing  rest  and  relief  to1  suffering 
men,  it  only  intensities  their  miseries.  One  can 
see  groups  of  men,  containing  a  dozen  or  more, 
huddled  together  in  the  trenches  for  mutual 
warmth,  or  crawling  under  the  frame  hospital 
hoping  to  find  shelter  from  the  terrible  cold  of 
these  winter  nights. 

November  25th.  The  dawning  of  this  morn¬ 
ing  ushered  in  a  dreary,  cold  day.  Desolation 
and  misery  reign  supreme.  The  naked  and 
ghastly  forms  of  dead  men  are  taken  to  the  dead- 
house  from  all  over  this  desolate  camp.  Some 
of  them  are  actually  frozen  stiff.  The  list  at 
the  dead-house  yesterday  numbered  fifty-eight, 
and  it  is  constantly  increasing.  No  rations 

171 


have  been  issued  to-day,  so  we  are  doomed  to  lie 

t/  j 

down  another  night  foodless  and  shelterless. 
Just  think  of  it,  ye  who  are  rejoicing  in  plenty! 
One  pound  of  coarse  corn  meal  bread  the  only 
food  for  forty-eight  hours,  and  the  probability 
is,  for  even  a  longer  time  than  that!  Is  it  pos¬ 
sible  that  our  friends  in  the  North,  and  espe¬ 
cially  the  Government  at  Washington,  has  for¬ 
gotten  us?  If  not,  we  cannot  help  asking  why 
some  measures  are  not  adopted  by  which  we 
can  be  released  from  these  conditions? 

To-day,  at  noon,  the  crisis  came.  A  mere 
handful  of  poor,  weak,  but  desperate  men 
resolved  to  break  away  from  this  awful  captiv¬ 
ity  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  A  rebel  relief  of 
fifteen  men  entered  the  stockade  at  noon. 
Forty-eight  hours  have  elapsed  since  we  have 
tasted  food.  The  men  were  weak  and  faint,  but 
desperation  gave  them  superhuman  strength. 
All  felt  it  was  better  to  die  by  the  swift  bullets 
of  the  guards  than  to  longer  endure  their  fiend¬ 
ish,  systematic  murder  by  starvation.  These 
desperate  prisoners,  armed  only  with  clubs, 
sprang  upon  the  rebel  soldiers  who,  taken  by 
surprise,  were  quickly  disarmed.  One  rebel 
guard  resisted,  but  a  quick  bayonet  thrust  soon 
pui  an  end  to  his  resistence.  Another  raised 
his  musket  to  shoot  down  a  prisoner,  but  before 
he  could  pull  the  trigger,  his  brains  'spattered 

\  '  .  35  .H;fi3  fmsm 


172 


ATTEMPTED  ESCAPE  OF  SALISBURY  PRISONERS. 


the  fence  behind  him.  The  guards  were  all 
killed  but  one.  His  life  was  saved  by  a  prisoner. 
The  prisoners,  now  aroused  to  the  most  desper¬ 
ate  frenzy  and  determination,  made  a  rush  for 
the  big  gate,  hoping  to  reach  the  arsenal,  which 
was  located  just  north  and  west  of  the  railroad 
depot,  arm  themselves  sufficiently  to  whip  the 
small  detachment  composing  the  garrison,  then 
march  to  the  east  and  intercept  {Sherman’s 
army,  which  was  supposed  to  be  operating  in 
that  direction.  After  the  prisoners  had  seized 
the  arms  of  the  guard,  they  found,  to  their  great 
disappointment,  that  they  carried  only  one  load 
of  ammunition  each.  The  muskets  were  used 
as  clubs,  but  in  this  they  were  ineffectual,  so 
that  only  a  few  got  through  the  gate  and  these 
found  themselves  powerless  to  go  any  farther 
because  they  had  no  ammunition.  In  a  short 
time  every  rebel  musket  wasi  turned  on  the  fight¬ 
ing  prisoners.  Three  field  pieces  were  hurling 
grape  and  cannister-shot  into  the  struggling 
mass  of  human  beings.  It  so  happened  that  a 
train  loaded  with  rebel  soldiers  was  lying  at  the 
depot  at  Salisbury,  and  these  were  rushed  for¬ 
ward  and  opened  a  deadly  fire  on  the  prisoners, 
so  that  only  a  few  of  those  who  succeeded  in 
getting  outside  the  gate  lived  to  be  driven  back. 
Thus  the  first  insurrection  in  Salisbury  was  a 
dismal  failure.  It  could  not  have  ended  other- 


wise.  There  was  no  leadership,  no  well- 
matured  plans,  no  concert  of  action.  The  des¬ 
perate  men  acted  solely  on  the  impulse  of  the 
moment.  It  was  an  ill-advised,  futile  attempt. 
It  lasted  hut  a  few  moments,  nevertheless,  in 
that  short  time,  eighty-one  were  killed  and 
twice  as  many  were  wounded.  The  enemy  were 
so  enraged  that  they  kept  up  the  tiring  long 
after  the  prisoners  surrendered.  The  material 
used  by  them  for  canister  and  grape  shot  on 
this  occasion,  was  round  pieces  of  iron  punched 
out  of  boiler  iron,  about  the  size  of  the  pieces 
usually  punched  out  to  admit  the  rivets  in  mak¬ 
ing  steam  boilers.  Two  of  these  pieces  I  have 
carefully  preserved  as  a  memento  of  this  terrible 
day.  This  was  the  only  attempt  at  insurrection 
in  any  southern  prison  during  the  war,  as  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  learn.  A  day  of  greater 
distress  and  suffering  I  never  saw  before.  Noth¬ 
ing  to  eat  for  nearly  forty-eight  hours;  eighty- 
one  of  our  comrades  shot  dead  and  double  the 
number  wounded.  It  is  useless  to  expect  that 
any  surgical  aid  will  be  given  to  the  wounded 
men,  hence,  most  of  them  will  soon  follow  those 
who  were  killed  outright.  How  can  men  live 
in  the  midst  of  such  surroundings? 

After  quiet  had  been  restored  two  Confeder¬ 
ate  officersi  came  into  the  pen  and  began  an 
investigation  for  the  purpose  of  finding  out  who 

175 


were  the  leaders  of  the  mutiny.  At  first  they 
offered  to  release  whoever  would  give  them  the 
desired  information,  but  finding  all  their  efforts 
fruitless,  they  asked  a  man  belonging  to  a 
Pennsylvania  regiment  if  lie  would  tell  them 
who  the  leader  was,  promising  to  reward  him 
with  a  parole  aud  transportation  to  the  Fed¬ 
eral  lines,  '  The  brave  man  told  them  he  did  not 
know,  and  even  if  he  did  know  he  would  die 
before  he  would  betray  him  to  his  enemies. 
This  so  enraged  the  officers  that  one  of  them 
struck  the  soldier  on  the  side  of  his  face  with 
his  sabre,  knocking  him  down  and  cutting  a 
great  gash  along  the  side  of  his  cheek.  After 
the  officers  had  retired,  those  of  us  who  remained 
uninjured  went  to  work  to  do  what  we  could  to 
relieve  the  terrible  sufferings  of  the  wounded. 
As  we  had  no  bandages,  no  medicines  and  no 
surgeons,  we  could  do  but  little  for  the  poor  fel¬ 
lows.  About  4  o’clock  two  surgeons  came  into 
the  prison  with  their  instruments  and  appli¬ 
ances  to  dress  the  wounds  and  amputate  the 
limbs  of  those  whose  condition  required  it. 

Many  such  were  found — two  having  each  an  arm 
and  one  a  leg  taken  off.  These  operations  were 
done  in  the  crudest  manner  imaginable.  A 
rough  table  was  placed  inside  and  close  to  the 
little  gate,  and  on  this  the  unfortunate  men 
were  placed.  The  surgeons  claimed  they  had 


176 


neither  chloroform  nor  ether,  so  the  operations 
were  performed  without  anesthetics,  and  the 
cries  and  piteous  appeals  of  the  poor  fellows 
were  heard  all  oyer  the  camp.  So  terrible  was 
the  sight  and  sounds  that  there  was  scarcely  a 
man  who  was  not  in  tears.  One  man  who  was 
badly  wounded  in  the  arm  refused  to  have  it 
amputated,  preferring,  as  he  said,  to  die  with, 
his  arm  on  his  body,  rather  than  be  butchered 
as  his  comrades  had  been.  His  friends  entreated 
him  to  submit  to  the  operation  in  order  to  save 
his  life,  but  he  resisted  all  entreaties  and  would 
not  submit.  After  the  operations  were  per¬ 
formed,  the  men  were  removed  to  the  hospital, 
which  is  only  one  stage  nearer  to  the  dead- 
house.  The  hospital  is  oyer-crowded  with  the 
men  who  were  wounded  in  the  break.  A  great 
many  are  being  cared  for  by  their  comrades  out¬ 
side!  the  hospital.  Many  a  man  who  enjoyed  a 
comfortable  hole  in  the  ground,  gave  it  up  to 
a  wounded  comrade,  while  he  tramped,  tramped 
on  the  outside  the  long,  weary  night,  glad  to 
know  that  by  this  act  of  self-sacrifice  the  life 
of  a  brave,  but  unfortunate,  comrade  might  be 
saved.  The  dead  who  were  killed  in  the  break 
for  liberty  were  piled  up  outside  the  gate,  and 
were  not  counted  in  the  list  kept  at  the  dead- 
house,  but  were  hauled  direct  to  the  trenches. 
There  is  abundant  testimony  to  corroborate, 


177 


beyond  a  doubt,  the  awful  fact,  that  one  man 
was  hauled  to  the  trenches  with  the  dead  while 
the  blood  was  still  running  from  his  wounds. 
Some  ,say  he  was  allowed  to  die  before  he  was 
thrown  in,  but  two  respectable  citizens  of  Salis¬ 
bury,  men  of  good  standing,  testify  that  he  was 
buried  ailve. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Dead  Bodies  Encased  in  Ice — Extra  horses  to 
the  Dead  Wagon — Many  of  the  Wounded 
Dying — Torture  from  Vermin — Tunnels 

A  ga  i  n — Col  d  -  B 1  o  o  de  d  Mu  rders — Pr  i  so  ners 

Freezing — Insane  from  Hunger — Moral 

Effects  of  Prison  Torture — A  Maniac’s  Sad 
Death — A  Ration  of  Meat — Outside  Dealers 
— A  Brutal  Crime  by  a  Guard — Deadly 
Diseases — A  Great  Purchase — Great  Excite¬ 
ment - A  Gold  December  Day — Rising  vs. 

Setting— Trading — Soup. 

November  26th.  Another  cold,  wet,  dreary 
night  has  closed,  it  rained  all  night,  and  the 
weather  was  so  cold  that  Ice  formed  on  the  trees 
so  thick  that  large  limbs  broke  under  the  great 
weight,  making  it  dangerous  for  the  men  to  seek 
shelter  under  them.  The  wind  is  piercing  cold 
and  snow  is  falling;  all  the  prisoners,  and  especi¬ 
ally  of  those  who  have  no  place  of  shelter  from 
the  pitiless  storm — and1  of  this  class  there  are  a 
great  many.  No  rations  of  any  kind  were  issued 
to  us.  yesterday,  and  owing  to  the  great  excite¬ 
ment  the  dead  were  not  hauled  out.  The  sight  is 

179 


a  sickening  one  to  bekolcl  and  one  that  ought  to 
make  even  a  savage  hide  liis  face  for  shame, 
llations  were  issued  today,  but  we  could  easily 
see  that  the  fiends  from  whom  we  receive  then) 
would  much)  prefer  to  let  us  starve.  It  is  the 
same  ol'd  limed  corn  bread.  A  large  number 
are  unable  to  eat  the  stuff  until  they  first  soak  it 
and  boil  it  in  water,  and  then  they  eat  it  with  a 
spoon.  In  hundreds  of  cases  their  stomachs  are 
so  deranged  by  the  lime  in  the  bread,  that  it  is 
impossible  for  them  to  retain  the  stuff  we  are 
compelled  to  call  “bread.” 

The  men  who  were  wounded  yesterday  are  in 
a  terrible  condition.  Nothing  is  being  done  for 
their  relief  and  no  food  is  given  them  to  appease 
their  terrible  hunger.  Poor  fellows!  It  is  pain¬ 
ful  to  hear  them  talk  of  the  nice  bread  their 
mothers  and  wives  at  home  could  make;  liow 
delicious  the  beefsteak  and  liam  tasted  when 
fried  by  them.  So  constantly  are  pictures  of 
home  and  home  plenty  before  them,  that 
no  effort  to  change  the  conversation  can 
succeed.  The  home  pantry  and  its  con¬ 
tents  is  the  only  subject  of  their  conver¬ 
sation  by  day,  and  by  night.  Two  rebel 
officers  made  their  appearance  in  the  prison  and 
have  taken  out  six  of  the  sergeants  command¬ 
ing  the  squads,  swearing  vengeance  on  them 

180 


and  claiming  they  were  the  ones  who  incited  the 
outbreak  yesterday. 


The  dead  wagon  had  to  have  an  extra  team 
of  horses  to>  it  today  in  order  to  do  its  awful 
work  of  hauling  out  the  dead  bodies  of  those 
whom  God  has  mercifully  released  from  their 
sufferings  by  death.  Never  did  death  seem  more 
appropriate  and  welcome  than  now. 


November  27tli.  Today  reveals  many  deaths 
among  those  who  were  wounded  two’  days  ago. 
The  death  list  among  the  sick  is  also  increasing 


very  fast.  The  diseases  most  prevalent  now 
are  Scurvy,  Bloody  Diarrhoea,  Running  Ulcers, 
Gangrene  and  Fever.  A  simple  change  of  diet, 
or  even  a  sufficient  quantity  of  any  wholesome 
food,  would  check  most  of  the  cases  of  scurvy; 
but  such  a  humane  act  on  the  part  of  these 
inhuman  men  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  Rather 
would  they  do  all  they  could  to  increase  the 
fatalities  instead  of  decreasing  them.  To  add  to 
the  terrible  plight  of  the  sick  in  the  hospital, 
there  is  hardly  a  square  inch  of  floor  or  wall 
free  from  the  terrible  vermin  of  which  I  have 
so  often  written.  The  poor  fellows  who  have  a 
little  strength  left  are  always  fighting  them 
with  desperation,  but  the  poor  helpless  sick  and 
wounded  men  suffer  tortures  beyond  the  power 
of  language  to  describe.  The  foul  vermin  are 
literally  devouring  them  alive.  To  see  these 


181 


1NTKRIOR  OF  BRICK  HOSPITAL. 


men,  the  heroes  of  many  hard-fought  battles, 
men  who  left  happy  homes  and  loving  friends  to 
defend  the  Flag  of  their  country,  now  weak  and 
helpless,  covered  with  mud  and  filth  of  all 
descriptions,  writhing  in  unspeakable  agony, 
while  maggots,  worms  and  lice  are  crawling  all 
over  their  poor  bodies',  and  even  creeping  from 
mouth  and  eyes,  and  ears,  was  a  siglit  well  cal¬ 
culated  to  numb  the  brain,  and  chill  the  heart  of 
the  most  indifferent  beholder. 

The  stock  in  tunnels  is  now  at  a  high  prem¬ 
ium,  the  guards  who  have  been  stationed  inside 
the  stockade  having  been  removed,  thus  giving 
the  operators  in  these  popular  enterprises  a  bet¬ 
ter  chance  to  carry  on  their  work  without  being 
observed  and  disturbed. 

November  28th.  Since  the  outbreak  of  the 
25th  inst.,  many  cold  blooded  murders  have 
been  committed  by  the  guards.  Prisoners  have 
been  shot  down  at  the  mere  will  of  these 
murderers,  and  no  rebuke  has  been  adminis¬ 
tered  by  the  authorities.  The  negro  prisoners 
are  the  special  objects  of  their  hate,  but  black 
and  white  alike  suffer.  It  has  been  currently 
reported  that  for  every  prisoner  shot  and  killed 
the  guard  was  promised  a  furlough  for  thirty 
days  ais  his  reward.  I  cannot  vouch  for  the 
truthfulness  of  this  report.  The  fact  that  many 


183 


prisoners  have  been  killed  without  the  slightest 
provocation,  I  do  know  to  be  true. 

November  29th.  The  victims  of  the  outbreak 
have  helped  to  swell  the  numbers  in  the  dead- 
house  today.  As  they  receive  no  attention  of 
any  kind  they  are  fast  dying  off.  Many  of  these 
poor  boys  might  have  lived  if  their  wounds  had 
received  proper  treatment,  but  the  surgeons 
attached  to  the  prison  gave  them  no  care  what¬ 
ever.  As  a  result,  the  death  list  numbers  from 
fifty  to  sixty  a  day.  The  increasing  severity  of 
the  cold  and  the  continued  lack  of  shelter,  is 
adding  daily  to  the  already  intense  suffering  of 
the  prisoners  in  this  stockade.  Oliver  Crocker, 
one  of  our  liut-familv,  froze  both  of  his  feet  last 
night,  to  such  an  extent  that  lie  can  scarcely 
walk.  Quite  a  number  of  the  prisoners  have 
become  insane,  being  so  reduced  in  strength  by 
constant  exposure  that  the  mind  is  no  longer 
able  to  bear  the  strain  and  endure  the  anguish. 
The  poor  fellows  wander  here  and  there  through 
the  camp,  yelling  as  loudly  as  they  can  for 
“Bread!  Bread!”  This  one  word,  shouted 
again  and  again,  is  the  only  word  they  utter.  It 
is)  pitiful  to  hear  them.  The  prison  is  fast 
becoming  an  insane  asylum. 

November  30th.  One  result  of  this  long  per¬ 
iod  of  confinement,  with  its  accompanying  mis¬ 
ery,  hungry,  exposure  and  degradation,  is  that 


many  prisoners  are  losing  all  sense  of  right, 
justice  and  honor.  Petty  thieving  is  practiced 
to  an  alarming  extent,  adding  to  the  general 
misery.  If  a  man  happens  to  leave  any  of  his 
effects  out  of  his  sight,  and  even  out  of  his 
reach,  they  are  speedily  picked  up  by  some 
sneak,  and  the  rightful  owner  has  no  assurance 
of  recovering  his  property.  We  dare  not  leave 
our  hut  without  leaving  some  one  to  guard  it. 
Rations  must  not  be  kept  longer  than  we  can 
devour  them.  If  put  away,  no-  matter  how 
secretly  they  may  be  hidden,  some  poor  fellow 
sufferer  is  sure  to  find  them  and  appropriate 
them  toi  his  own  use.  We  dare  not  even  go  away 
from  the  presence  of  our  friends  to  eat  the  little 
that  is  doled  out  to  us.  If  a  piece  of  bread  is 
displayed  in  some  parts  of  the  prison  pen,  and 
the  fortunate  possessor  is  alone,  two  or  three 
poor,  famishing  fellows  are  sure  to  attack  and 
take  it  away  from  him.  The  number  of  deaths 
for  November  registers  1043,  an  average  of  over 
thirty-four  for  each  day. 

December  1st.  A  sad  accident  happened  to 
one  of  the  unfortunate  maniacs  last  night.  Borne 
time  during  the  night  lie  fell  into  the  sink  on  the 
east  side  of  the  prison  pen.  As  there  was  no 
one  near  when  the  accident  happened,  he  was 
not  discovered  until  this  morning.  The  poor 
fellow  was  too  weak  to  extricate  himself,  and 


so  lie  died  under  these  horrible  conditions. 
Rations  have  been  issued  to  us  quite  regularly 
since  the  25th  of  November,  but  they  have  con¬ 
sisted  solely  of  the  regulation  corn  bread. 
Today  a  welcome  change  was  made  by  the  addi¬ 
tion  of  some  meat,  the  second  we  have  had  since 
taking  up  our  abode  here.  As  may  well  be  sup¬ 
posed,  it  was  very  scanty  in  quantity,  and  very 
poor  in  quality.  The  amount  alloted  to  two  men 
would  not  exceed  one-fourth  of  a  pound,  and 
the  meat  consisted  of  livers,  lungs,  hearts  and 
heads  of  beeves  killed  for  the  rebel  soldiers 
guarding  this  prison  and  garrisoning  the  post  of 
Salisbury.  Still  it!  is  meat,  and  is  relished  as 
only  starving  men  can  relish  it. 

December  2nd.  The  sutler  is  still  in  business, 
but  his  trade  is  not  thriving,  owing  to  the  great 
searcitv  of  money  among  the  men  who  would  be 
his  patrons  if  they  could.  He  lias  to  contend 
against  the  competition  of  the  citizens  who  wait 
along  the  road  to  the  creek,  where  we  get  our 
water,  and  among  whom  a  good  deal  of  traffick¬ 
ing  is  carried  on  by  the  men  who  go  out  on  the 
water  detail.  They  prefer  to  take,  trade  of 
almost  any  description  rather  than  Confederate 
scrip,  for  whatever  they  have  to  sell.  They  do 
not  have  faith  in  their  *  own  money,  and,  at 
heart,  I  ami  sure  they  have  just  as  little  faith 
in  their  bogus  government  and  their  dying 

186 


cause.  Today  I  received  from  one  of  these  out¬ 
side  pedlars  a  large  plug  of  tobacco,  three  sweet 
potatoes,  a  corn  dodger,  weighing  fully  one 
pound,  all  for  one  finger  ring.  I  also  have  a 
promise  of  a  pound  of  butter  tomorrow  after¬ 
noon  for  another  ring  like  it.  What  a  treasure 
for  so  small  a  thing! 

December  3rd.  A  most  henious  crime  was 
perpetrated  by  one  of  the  guards  today.  A  pris¬ 
oner  saw  a  piece  of  wood  just  across  the  dead 
line  that  had,  in  some  way  been  split  from  one 
of  the  stockade  logs.  While  he  was  in  the  act 
of  reaching  over  the  line  to  get  the  piece  of 
wood  a  guard  shot  him  dead.  The  ball  crashed 
through  his  head,  killing  him  instantly.  Many 
believe  that  the  guard  purposely  split  off  the 
piece  of  wood  and  threw  it  where  lie  knew  some 
poor  fellow  would  be  tempted  to  reach  for  it, 
and  all  for  the  purpose  of  getting  an  opportun¬ 
ity  to  kill  a  Yankee.  What  brave  soldiers  they 
are,  indeed! 

The  scurvy  is  fast  spreading  among  the  pris¬ 
oners!,  many  being  already  doomed  by  it.  How 
easily  this  could  be  remedied  by  a  change  in  the 
stuff  they  call  food,  but  no  step  has  been  taken, 
or  is  likely  to  be  taken,  in  that  direction.  And 
to  make  matters  worse,  the  men  affected  by  the 
disease  receive  no  medical  treatment  whatever. 
The  diarrhoea  is  also  raging  to  an  alarming 

187 


extent.  Men  suffering  from  this  terrible  disease 
are  also  left  without  treatment,  except  such  as 
they  may  be  able  to>  provide  themselves  by  peel¬ 
ing  the  bark  from  the  oak  trees  inside  the 
enclosure.  This  bark  is  steeped  in  water  and 
a  strong  tea  made  and  drank  for  a  remedy.  So 

M 

numerous  have  been  the  cases  of  this  disease 
that  many  of  the  trees  are  peeled  of  ever}7  bit 
of  bark  as  high  up  as  a  man  can  reach  while 
standing  on  another  man’s  shoulders.  Then  the 
squad  of  men  detailed  to  go  into  the  timber  for 
wood  get  blackberry  roots,  which  gives  us  the 
best  remedy  we  have  found.  Unfortunately  the 
supply  is  very  limited,  as  we  can  only  get  the 
roots  occasionally. 

Today  I  again  went  with  the  water  squad  and 
found  my  man  awaiting  me  with  his  roll  of  but¬ 
ter.  I  gave  him  the  ring  and  became  the  proud 
and  fortunate  possessor  of  one  pound  of  butter, 
which  I  found  to  be  a  valuable  addition  to 
my  “pantry.”  Instead  of  spreading  it  on  my 
bread— my  lime-raised  corn  bread— as  common 
people  would  do,  I  put  a  piece  about  the  size  of 
a  walnut  in  my  cup  when  making  my  coffee, 
which  imparts  a  better  flavor  to  it. 

Gold  blooded  murders  are  of  nearly  every  day 
occurrence.  Today  a  guard  fired  into  a  crowd  of 
men  that  had  congregated  together,  but  with 
no  wrong  intent.  After  lie  fired  he  commanded 

188 


them  to  disperse.  Since  the  insurrection  of  the 
25th  of  November  the  prison  authorities  have 
been  very  watchful.  The  guards  have  strict 
orders  to  prohibit  any  number  of  men  from  con¬ 
gregating  together  in  any  part  of  the  prison 
grounds,  fearing  they  may  be  devising  plans 
for  another  outbreak.  And  the  cruel  guards  are 
not  slow  to  take  advantage  of  every  opportunity 
offered  to  put  their  cruel  orders  into  execution, 
even  though  the  facts  do  not  call  for  such  sum¬ 
mary  measures. 

December  5th.  The  prison:  is  in  a  state  of 
great  excitement  this  morning.  By  some  provi¬ 
dential  manner  a  rebel  paper  found  its  way  into 
the  prison,  and  it  contained  an  editorial  saying 
that  the  next  week  we  were  to  be  paroled.  While 
some  were  very  hopeful  that  the  editorial  was 
true,  others  prophesied  that  it  was  only  a  ruse 
of  our  enemies  to  keep  us  quiet,  because  their 
actions  have  given  evidence  that,  noth  with¬ 
standing  their  superior  advantages,  they  are 
afraid  of  us,  and  this  paper  was  sent  into  the 
prison  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  prisoners 
in  good  spirits  in  hope  of  a  near  release.  The 
paper  was  printed  on  the  plain  side  of  wall 
paper. 

December  6th.  This  is  a  very  cold  and  dis¬ 
agreeable  morning.  Last  night  the  weather  was 
so  cold  that  it  snowed  and  froze.  It  is  sad  and 


189 


painful  to  see  the  poor  barefooted  fellows  walk 
around  in  the  snow  as  long  as  they  can  stand  it, 
and  then,  brushing  the  snow  from  their  bare 
feet,  sit  down  on  them  to  try  and  put  some 
warmth  into  them.  In  many  cases  the  joints 
of  their  limbs  are  swelled  to  twice  their  natural 
size,  while  the  vermin  have  eaten  sores  from 
their  hips  to  their  ankles,  so  that  when  they 
bend  their  limbs  the  sores  crack  open  and  bleed, 
causing  intense  pain.  I  have  seen  several  men 
from,  whose  hip  joints  the  skin  was  entirely 
gone,  leaving  the  bones  exposed,  caused  by  the 
poison  infused  into  them  by  the  graybacks.  The 
irritation  produced  is  so  great  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  refrain  from  scratching  the  sores, 
which  increases  the  irritation  and  suffering. 

December  Tth.  Kind  reader,  let  me  draw 
upon  your  imagination  to  create  a  picture  that 
will  give  you  a  faint  idea  of  what  life  in  Sails 
bury  Prison  means.  Imagine,  if  you  can,  a  cold, 
raw*  December  day;  the  ground  covered  with 
snow  and  slush;  a  cold,  drizzling  rain  falling; 
fully  one-half  of  the  prisoners  without  cover- 
ing  or  shelter  of  any  kind,  not  even  a  hole  in  the 
ground;  hatless,  shoeless,  with  no  clothing  save 
a  light  blouse,  or  shirt  and  pants,  and  these  all 
tattered  and  torn,  tied  up  with  strings  to  hold 
them  together;  no  food  save 'a  small  piece  of 
corn  bread  raised  with  lime,  made  out  of  musty 


190 


WINTER  COSTUME  IN  SALISBURY. 


191 


meal,  only  half  baked,  and  that  given  only  once 
a  day.  This  is  not  a  picture,  a  dream,  a  fancy — 
it  is  a;  living,  terrible  fact,  as  thousands  of 
Union  soldiers  can  testify.  Do  you  wonder  that 
it  keeps  a  four-horse  wagon  and  several  men 
busy  to  bury  the  dead  each  day? 

Since  the  weather  has  become  so  cold  we  have 

« 

made  a  very  valuable  addition  to  the  comfort  of 
our  hut  in  the  shape  of  a  fireplace  built  of  mud, 
and  as  both  ends  of  the  hut  are  open  the  smoke 
is  easily  carried  away.  In  this  fireplace  we  can 
boil  our  coffee  with  a.  very  small  amount  of 
wood. 

December  8tli.  It  is  a  sad  thought  that  many 
who  saw  the  sun  go  down  last  evening  are  not 
alive  to  greet  him  this  morning — no  less  than 
twenty-one  poor,  suffering  men  died  during  the 
night  and  were  taken  to  the  dead  house,  from 
thence  to  be  carted  away  and  thrown  into  a 
trench  with  as  little  respect  as  one  would  throw 
a  dead  animal  into  a  refuse-pit.  Many  a  poor 
fellow  who  yet  lives  is  only  too  glad  of  the  privi¬ 
lege  oU  getting  the  scanty  clothing  which  the 
dead  had  on.  Some  will  take  the  legs  of  panta¬ 
loons  and  draw  them  over  their  bare  feet,  fold¬ 
ing  them  under,  then  bring  them  up  and  tie 
them'  around  their  ankles,  thus  making  a  com¬ 
fortable  pair  of  moccasins  which,  to  a  man  des- 

192 


titute  of  shoes,  and  compelled  to  walk  in  the 
snow  day  and  night,  is  a  great  relief. 

December  9th.  This  morning  I  was  again  so 
fortunate  as  to  be  permitted  to  go  out  with  the 
water  squad.  I  had  an  opportunity  to  trade  a 
ring  for  a  corn-dodger.  One  of  the  old  guards 
informed  me  this  was  the  coldest  morning  he 
had  ever  known  in  this  region,  and  he  was  an 
old  resident  of  the  place,  haying  lived  here  for 
over  twenty  years.  You,  dear  reader,  can  imag¬ 
ine  what  the  prisoners  must  suffer,  being  desti¬ 
tute  of  shoes,  clothing  and  shelter. 

December  10th.  The  weather  has  moderated 
somewhat.  The  snow  is  melting,  and  conse¬ 
quently  the  mud  is  deep  all  over  the  camp.  One 
misfortune  attending  the  melting  of  snow  and 
the  falling  of  rain  is,  that  the  loose  dirt  covering 
of  many  of  the  dug’-out  allows  the  water  to  run 
through,  causing  the  dirt  toi  cave  in  and  thus 
ruin  the  only  shelter  many  of  the  poor  fellows 
have.  People  in  good,  comfortable  houses  can¬ 
not  realize  what  an  irreparable  misfortune  it  is 
for  a  man  to  lose  even  his  poor  dug-out.  To  do 
so  means  that  he  must  stand  out  in  all  kinds  of 

weather  absolutely  shelterless. 

€/ 

Today  our  ration  of  corn  bread  was  accom¬ 
panied  by  one  pint  of  weak  soup  to  each  man, 
each  pint  of  soup  having  about  one  dozen  beans 

193 


- 


and  two  dozen  maggots  in  it.  But  we  are  not 
fastidious)  enough  to  object  to  the  quality,  it  is 
the  lack  of  sufficient  quantity  that  causes  com¬ 
plaints  to1  be  made.  We  are  willing  to  take  the 
soup  and  beans  and  not  make  any  fuss  about 
the  maggots. 


194 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


A  Great  Misfortune — A  Good  Means  of  Recre¬ 
ation — Visit  the  Hospital — A  Dead  Horse — 
Food  a  Little  Better — Dead,  1252 — Gray- 
backs  Galore — The  Trade  of  Market  Square — 
Rumors  of  Exchange — Escaped  Prison-era — 
Disloyal  Guards — A  Prisoner  Killed — Col¬ 
ored  Prisoners  Dying — A  Side  Dish — The 
Breaky-Bone  Fever — Two  Escaped  Prisoners 
Caught — Heavy  Skirmishing  (?) — Terrible 
Suffering — Contrast  Between  Rebel  and 
Union  Prisoners. 

December  11th.  A  great,  misfortune  occurred 
last  night  which  blasted  the  hopes  of  many  poor 
fellows.  A  tunnel  which  was  nearly  completed, 
the  outer  end  of  it  having  been  carried  beyond 
the  stockade,  caved  in  last  night  just  outside, 
and  so  close  to  the  stockade  that  three  or  four 
of  the  posts  settled  into  it,  completely  ruining 
the  tunnel  and  carrying  dismay  and  sore  disap¬ 
pointment  to  the  poor  fellows  who  had  toiled  so 
long  and  so  hard  to  complete  it,  hoping  thereby 
to  effect  their  escape.  The  disaster  was  caused 

195 


by  the  ground  becoming  soaked  with  water  from 
the  melting  snows.  While  digging  tunnels  has 
not  been  very  successful,  the  enterprises  have 
not  been  altogether  valueless.  The  work  gives 
relief  from  the  monotony  of  prison  life,  keeps 
the  bodies  of  the  operators  warm,  and  encour¬ 
ages  them  with  bright  hopes  and  expectations 
of  success  in  gaining  their  liberty.  Alas!  how 
few  of  those  who  have  gone  through  the  ones 
successfully  completed,  lived  to  reach  the  land 
of  freedom  and  of  home! 

December  12th.  A  visit  through  the  hospital 
to-day  revealed  the  sad  fact  that  the  last  one 

of  the  wounded  placed  therein  has  died  of  his 

* 

wounds.  There  are  only  five  of  the  victims  left 
inside  the  stockade,  and  these  were  among  the 
number  who  were  slightly  wounded.  The  loss 
of  that  awful  day  must  number  between  two 
and  three  hundred. 

As  the  dead-wagon  was  hauling  out  its  load 
of  precious  freight  to-day,  numbering  about 
twenty  dead  bodies,  the  road  being  very  muddy, 
one  of  the  horses  balked  inside  the  stockade. 
One  of  the  guards  became  angry  and  attacked 
the  poor  brute  with  his  bayonet.  In  doing  so, 
the  hammer  of  his  gun  caught  on  his  leg  in  such 
a  way  that  it  was  discharged,  the  ball  striking 
the  horse  just  behind  the  front  leg,  killing  him 
almost  instantly.  We  thought  now  was  our 

196 


opportunity  to  get  some  fresh  meat,  and  we 
united  in  asking  the  prison  authorities  permis¬ 
sion  to  dress  the  dead  horse,  but  they  refused 
the  request.  We  then  tried  to  buy  the  carcass, 
and  more  money  was  offered  for  it  than  the 
horse  was  wrorth  while  living.  At  this  point  an 
officer  stepped  to  the  gate  and  put  a  stop  to  all 
further  negotiations  by  ordering  the  teamsters 
to  haul  the  dead  beast  out  immediately.  One 
man  asked  the  officer  why  he  would  not  let  us 
have  the  horse.  His  answer  was: 

“I  do  not  want  youhins  to  go  home  and  tell 
the  folksi  up  thar  that  we’uns  fed  you’uns  on 
dead  hoss.” 

But  what  a  luxury  a  piece  of  nice,  clean,  dead 
“hoss”  would  have  been,  in  comparison  to  lime- 
raised,  half-baked  corn  bread  and  maggoty  soup. 

December  13th.  Our  rations  come  with  more 
regularity  and  with  some  improvement  in  their 
quality.  The  meal  is  ground  finer,  and  if  any  lime 
is  used  in  raising  the  bread,  it  is  so  little  that  its 
presence  is  not  easily  detected.  The  quantity  is 
about  the  same.  The  bread  which  has  been 
issued  up  to>  this  time  has  had  a  terrible  effect 
on  our  stomachs.  This,  together  with  the 
scurvy,  which  is  very  prevalent,  is  making  great 
inroads  on  our  numbers'.  From  the  13th  of 
November  to  the  night  of  the  12th  of  the  present 
month  (December),  the  dead  numbers  1252. 

197 


These  figures  were  taken  from  the  book  at  the 
dead  house,  which  registers  the  correct  number 
taken  out  to  the  trenches  for  what  they  are 
pleased  to  call  “burial.”  These  trenches,  with 
the  brutal  scenes  enacted  in  and  about  them, 
makes  the  darkest  spot  on  the  character  of  this 
nation,  and  will  be  remembered  as  the  infamy 
of  the  leaders  of  the  rebellion  a,s  long  as  time 
lasts. 

December  14th.  The  weather  is  so  cold  that 
it  has  been  impossible  for  ns  to-  take  off  the  few 
rags  we  have  on  our  poor  bodies  to  skirmish  for 
graybacks.  As  a  consequence,  they  have  become 
so  numerous  that  they  are  literally  eating  us 
up.  There  is  not  a  vessel  inside  the  stockade 
large  enough  to  boil  a  shirt  in.  The  only  way 
to  exterminate  them  is  to-  take  off  the  garment, 
or  what  is  left  of  it,  sit  on  one  end  of  it  while 
the  fighting  is  carried  on  at  the  other  end.  But 
under  the  present  conditions  of  the  weather  it 
is  impossible  to  remain  naked  so  long.  This 
gives  them  a  chance  to  multiply  with  fearful 
rapidity,  which  they  do. 

“Market  Square,”  as  it  is  called,  is  getting  to 
be  a  place  of  great  notoriety.  It  is  located  just 
west  and  south  of  the  wooden  hospital,  and  is 
the  nicest  piece  of  ground  in  the  stockade.  Any¬ 
one  having  anything  to  sell  or  trade  can  always 
find  a  market  for  it  by  going  to  this  place  and 

198 


letting  the  fact  be  known.  Brass  buttons  com¬ 
mand  a  price  ranging  from  two  to  three  dollars 
each;  a  cup  of  water  for  a  chew  of  tobacco,  and 
vice  versa.  An  old  soup  bone  that  has  been 
gnawed  for  twenty-four  hours,  will  usually  sell 
for  five  dollars.  This,  if  it  has  a  poms  end,  is 
broken  to  pieces,  placed  in  a  tin  can  and  boiled 
for  an  hour  or  two,  then  bread  crumbs  are 
added  to  it  and  boiled,  making  a  dish  which 
brings  great  satisfaction  and  delight  to  the  for¬ 
tunate  possessor.  The  articles  for  sale  on 
“Market  Square”  are  as  numerous  and  assorted 
as  the  contents  of  a  boy’s  pocket.  The  bone 
jewelers  will  pay  as  high  as  two  and  three  dol 
lars  for  an  old,  dry  bone. 

December  15th.  Encouraging  news  was 
started  in  prison  today.  It  is  rumored  that  an 
exchange  of  prisoners  is  soon  to  be  consum¬ 
mated,  and  we  are  to  go  home.  Some  are  ready 
to  catch  at  every  rumored  hope  of  release  from 
this  terrible  torture,  as  eagerly  as  a  drowning 
man  is  said  to  catch  at  straws.  Others  put  no 
credence  whatever  in  ,such  rumors,  believing 
them  to  be  started  by  our  enemies  that  the  pain 
of  disappointment  might  be  another  ingredient 
in  our  cup  of  bitterness. 

When  the  blood  hounds  were  taken  on  their 
customary  tour  around  the  stockade  today,  at 
a  certain  point  they  began  baying  and  started 

199 


out  on  what  their  keepers  call  a  “hot  trail  of  an 
escaped  Yank.”  The  entire  herd  of  blood 
hounds  were  let  loose  to  find  the  fugitives.  It  is 
supposed  one  of  the  guards  was  bribed  to  let 
the  prisoner  escape.  A  careful  search  was  made 
for  tunnels,  or  breaks  in  the  stockade,  but 
none  were  found.  The  only  possible  means 
of  escape  was  over  the  stockade,  and  that 
could  not  be  accomplished  unless  the  guard 
were  asleep  or  bribed.  The  latter  is  not 
improbable,  as  the  old  guards  are  on  duty,  and 
they  are  much  more  favorable  to  us  than  the 
young  ones.  Woe  be  to  the  poor  prisoner  who 
should  approach  one  of  the  youngsters,  or  “Jun¬ 
ior  Guards,”  with  a  proposition  to  let  him 
escape.  He  would  escape,  but  it  would  be  by  a 
ball  crashing  through  his  heart  or  brain. 

December  16th.  The  secret  of  the  escape  of  a 
prisoner  night  before  last  was  discovered  this 
morning.  It  seems  that  five  of  the  prisoners 
bribed  one  of  the  old  guards  to  let  them  escape, 
and  lie  did  so.  They  went  out  at  the  big  gate. 
The  discovery  of  this  transaction  has  caused 
great  excitement  among  the  prisoners  and  rebel 
authorities.  The  escape  was  discovered  and 
reported  to  the  prison  commander  by  one  of  the 
“young  bloods.”  As  a  result,  the  old  guards  are 
under  arrest.  No  tidings  of  the  fugitives  or 
their  pursuers  have  been  received  up  to  this 


200 


time.  The  authorities  have  become  very  strict. 
No  gathering  of  the  prisoners  in  any  consider¬ 
able  number  in  any  part  of  the  prison  is 
allowed!.  If  a  crowd  does  gather  they  are 
ordered  to  disperse  at  once,  and  if  the  order  is 
not  quickly  obeyed  they  are  fired  into.  In  many 
instances!  the  shot  has  been  fired  before  the 
order  has  been  given.  Such  was  the  case  today 
in  the  northwest  part  of  the  prison.  A  crowd 
had  congregated  when  a  ball  was  sent  crashing 
among  them,  followed  by  the  order  to  disperse. 
This  time  there  was  not  much  pity  wasted  on 
the  unfortunate  man  wbo<  was  killed.  The 
murder  took  place  in  the  famous,  or  infamous, 
“Devil’s  Den,”  the  victim)  being  one  of  their  own 
convicts.  It  would  have  been  the  same  if  the 
crowd  had  been  composed  of  Union  soldiers.  No 
favors  are  shown  to  any. 

December  17th.  The  colored  prisoners  are 
fast  disappearing,  death  cutting  them  down 
every  day.  They  are  a  pitiful  lot  to  behold. 
Their  sufferings  are  even  more  intense  than  the 
suffering  of  the  white  soldiers.  All  ambition  to 
live  seems  to  have  died  out  in  them.  They 
become  so  despondent  that  they  will  tumble 
down  almost  anywhere,  give  up  the  struggle, 
and  die.  I  was  allowed  toi  go  out  with  the 
water-squad  today.  One  of  the  guards 
informed  us  that  the  rumor  of  an  exchange  of 


201 


prisoners,  was  freely  talked  about  on  the  out¬ 
side;,  and  lie  believed  it  was  true.  But  it  will 
never  do  to  build  any  hopes  on  these  rumors, 
because  when  they  prove  to  be  false,  as  they 
always  do,  the  effect  of  the  disappointment  is 
highly  disastrous  to  the  prisoners. 

Our  rations  today  had  another  side-dish  com¬ 
posed  of  the  same  as  lias  been  given  us  on  one  or 
two  other  occasions,  and  which  is  dignified  with 
the  name,  “meat.”  The  amount  given  us  is  very 
small.  Only]  about:  three  or  four  ounces  to 
each  man.  It  serves  to  intensify  rather  than 
satisfy  our  hunger. 

December  18th.  This:  is  a  cold,  rainy  Sab¬ 
bath  day.  Mud  ankle  deep,  and  not  a  dry  place 
in  the  stockade.  The  suffering  of  the  naked  and 
shelterless  men  is  beyond  description.  The 
deaths  are  as  numerous  outside  as  inside  the 
hospital.  The  scurvy  is  on  the  increase,  and  a 
disease  called  the  “Breakybone  Fever”  is  attack¬ 
ing  nearly  all  the  men.  All  this  comes  from  the 
extreme  exposure  and  the  lack  of  proper  food, 
from  which  all  are  suffering.  Both  these 
diseases  are  very  contagious  and  fatal,  espe¬ 
cially  among  those  who  are  reduced  in  flesh  and 
vitality.  The  limbs  swell  to  an  enormous  size, 
causing  excruciating  pain,  especially  in  the 
joints.  The  pain  is  even  more  severe  than  the 
pain  of  neuralgia. 


202 


December  19th.  This  morning  two  of  the 
escaped  prisoners  were  returned  to  the  prison. 
They  report  that  the  other  three  got  separated 
from  them  and  the  hunters  were  unable  to  dis¬ 
cover  their  tracks.  They  entertain  a  good  hope 
that,  having  eluded  their  pursuers,  they  have 
made  good  their  escape  to  our  lines.  The  two 
men  captured  were  kept  at  Major  Gee’s  head¬ 
quarters  all  night,  where  every  effort  was  made 
to  extort  from  them  the  manner  in  which  they 
escaped,  and  which  of  the  guards  aided  them. 
But  to  the  honor  of  the  men,  they  would  not 
reveal  anything  to  the  rebel  commander. 

December  20th.  The  weather  having  moder¬ 
ated,  we  are  skirmishing  for  “game.”  The  pris¬ 
oners  are  taking  advantage  of  the  mildness 
of  the  day  and  are  engaged  in  the  laudable  and 
necessary  duty  of  hunting  graybacks.  And 
they  do  not  have  to  hunt  long  or  go  far,  to  find 
them  galore.  While  the  men  are  in  a  nude 
state  it  is  painful  to  look  at  them.  Many  are 
so  poisoned  by  the  vermin  that  running,  ulcer¬ 
ated  sores  cover  their  limbs  from  the  hips  down 
to  the  ankles.  They  receive  no  medical  treat¬ 
ment  and  have  no  means  of  cleansing  their  poor 
bodies.  The  extreme  filth  and  poison  intensifies 
these  ulcerous  sores,  which  soon  results  in  blood 
poison  and  a  slow,  but  sure,  death.  However, 
when  death  comes  their  sufferings  are  ended, 

203 


so  that  after  all  death  is  the  best  friend  of  the 
poor  fellows  and  is  longed  for  by  many. 

For  several  days  a  Oat  hoi  ic  priest  has  been 
visiting  the  pen,  hunting  up  the  sheep  of  his 
flock,  and  offering  all  who  will  go  out  with  him 
better  quarters  and  more  wholesome  food.  This 
offer  is  made  only  to  those  of  the  Catholic  faith. 
Many  of  his  own  flock  are  suspicious  of  his 
motives.  So  far  only  a  few  have  accepted  of  his 
invitations. 

It  is  wonderful  how  ready  the  prisoners  are 
to  appreciate  and  make  merry  over  a  good  joke, 
notwithstanding  their  extreme  suffering.  A 
good  one  has  just  come  to  our  knowledge,  and 
is  causing  many  smiling  faces,  and  much  sharp, 
but  pleasant,  bantering  between  the  guards  and 
ourselves.  A  correspondent  for  one  of  the  New 
York  papers,  named  Richardson,  has;  been  in 
ft i  e  pen  for  some  time,  but  has  also  been  busily 
engaged  in  maturing  a  plan  for  his  escape.  Day 
before  yesterday  lie  carried  his  plans  into  execu¬ 
tion  by  assuming  the  role  of  a  hospital  physi¬ 
cian,  and  as  such,  he  boldly  walked  up  to  one 
of  the  gates  and  passed  out,  the  guard  showing 
him  all  the  respect  due  one  of  their  own  physi¬ 
cians  (?).  His  plan  succeeded  admirably  and  he 
is  now  breathing  free  air,  while  he  is  making  all 
speed  towards  the  Federal  lines,  followed  by 
our  earnest  prayers  that  he  may  succeed  in 


204 


escaping  the  rebels  and  their  blood  hounds.  His 
absence  was  not  discovered  until  late  today.  We 
are  joking  the  guards  over  this  exhibition  of 
Yankee  ingenuity  deceiving  their  authorities 
and  throwing  even  the  blood  hounds  off  the 
trail.  They  wince  under  it,  but  have  to 
admit  it. 

December  21st.  Great  suffering  prevails 
among  the  prisoners,  caused  by  the  breaky- 
bone  fever,  nearly  all  of  whom  are  affected 
by  it,  myself  among  the  number.  My  ankles 
and  knees  are  badly  swollen.  About  1 
o’clock  every  afternoon  the  torturing  pain 
begins,  and  continues  with  such  severity  that 
it  is  impossible  to  sleep  or  rest.  The  excruciat¬ 
ing  pain  continues  until  about  8  o’clock  in  the 
morning,  when  it  disappears,  only  to  return 
with  increased  vigor  when  evening  again 
appears.  The  only  way  by  which  the  affected 
men  can  gain  any  relief  is  to  sit  close  to  a  hot 
fire,  almost  roasting  the  knees  and  ankles,  but 
owing  to  the  scarcity  of  wood,  and  the  limited 
number  of  fires,  few  of  the  sufferers  can  avail 
themselves  of  this  remedy.  The  rest  have  to 
keep  walking,  painful  though  it  is,  to  keep  the 
blood  in  circulation.  When  exhaustion  comes 
on,  as  it  surely  does,  they  are  compelled  to  sit 
down  and  resort  to  the  measure  of  chafing  the 
limbs  and  parts  affected.  The  hospital  sur- 


205 


/; 


geons  make  no  effort  whatever  to  give  us  medi¬ 
cine,  or  afford  us  relief  of  any  kind. 

December  22nd.  I  had  a  talk  today  with  a 
rebel  soldier  who  has  been  in  the  military 
prison  at  Rock  Island,  Illinois,  and  has  recently 
been  exchanged.  He  says  that  while  the  south¬ 
ern  leaders  are  anxious  to  effect  a  general 
exchange  of  prisoners,  the  authorities  at  Wash¬ 
ington  are  opposed  to  it,  claiming  that  to  do  so 
would  be  to  very  greatly  reinforce  the  armies  of 
the  Confederacy,  and  by  so  much  increase  its 
lighting  strength  and  prolong  the  horrors  of  the 
war.  What  a  wide  contrast  exists  between  the 
condition  of  the  rebel  prisoners  in  the  northern 
prisons  and  Union  prisoners  in  the  prison  pens 
of  the  south.  The  former, being  well-fed,  clothed, 
sheltered  and  cared  for,  when  exchanged,  return 
south  stronger  and  more  able-bodied  than  when 
they  were  captured,  and  are  ready  to  return  at 
once  toi  their  regiments  in  the  field.  But  what 
a  sorry  lot  of  soldiers  the  victims  of  southern 
prisons,  the  victims  of  starvation,  exposure, 
cruelty,  neglect  and  disease  would  make!  Even 
when  they  are  exchanged  and  permitted  to  go 
north,  it  takes  months  of  the  most  skillful  med¬ 
ical  attendance  and  careful  nursing  to  restore 
them  tot  health,  and  many  thousands  of  the  poor 
fellows  are  so  diseased  and  broken  down  that 
they  never  will  recover,  but  must  eke  out  a  poor, 

206 


miserable  existence  until  death  comes  to  their 
relief.  We  would  a  thousand  times  rather  fight 
them  in  honorable  battle,  in  open  field,  than 
satisfy  their  fiendish  delight  in  seeing  us  com¬ 
pelled  to  endure  such  wretchedness  as  they  heap 
upon  us. 


207 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


A  Gloomy  Christmas — My  Christmas  Dinner — 
Working  While  Suffering — Letters — New 
Prisoners — A  Royal(?)  Visitor— Libby  vs. 
Salisbury — Hell  and  Purgatory — Deaths 

Increasing — From  the  Dead  to  the  Living — A 
Grewsome  Kind  of  Trade — The  Effects  of 
Scurvy — The  Last  Day  of  1864 — A  Gloomy 
New  Year’s  Day — A  Sickening  Sight — Fall  of 
the  Bakery  Chimney — A  New  Mode  of  Burial 
— Punished  for  Disobedience — Citizen  Pris- 
ers — Tobacco  and  Food. 

December  23rd.  The  Chrismas  season  is  again 
drawing  nigh.  What  a  great  contrast  there  is 
between  this  and  other  Christmas  seasons  I  have 
spent.  What  preparations  for  merry-making 
we  used  to  indulge  in  before  the  years  when  the 
terrible  war-cloud  settled  down  upon  the  land! 
But  no  preparations  are  being  made  now,  at 
least,  not  by  the  “citizens”  of  Salisbury  prison- 
pen.  Although  so  close  to  the  great  festal  day, 
there  are  many  who  are  alive  this  morning,  who 
will  not  be  living  when  Christmas  morning 

208 


dawns.  It  is  enough  to  touch  the  hardest  heart 
with  pity  to  see  groups  of  starved,  suffering 
Union  soldiers,  now  the  victims,  as  prisoners, 
of  southern  deviltry  and  hate,  and  hear  them 
talking  about  the  good  things  in  their  mother 
pantries  at  home — the  roast  turkey,  mince  pies 
and  the  other  delicacies  so  common  in  northern 
homes  at  Christmas  time.  Their  suffering  is 
increased  by  the  consciousness  that  for  them 
there  can  be  only  hunger  and  misery,  unrelieved 
by  any  ray  of  hope  for  the  future.  God  only 
sees  and  understands  the  full  meaning  of  the 
contrast  to  the  men  who  are  passing  through  it. 

December  24th.  Last  night  was  one  of  excru¬ 
ciating  torture  to  me.  My  feet  are  so  badly 
swollen  this  morning  that  I  cannot  wear  my  old, 
patched-up  shoes,  while  my  knees  and  ankles 
are  so  weak  and  painful  that  I  can  scarcely 
walk.  Such  pain  as  I  endure  is  beyond  descrip¬ 
tion.  I  sat  in  the  hut  all  day  and  improved  the 
confinement  by  making  a  ring,  hoping  to  be 
able  to  trade  it  for  some  bit  of  food  that  will 

make  my  Christmas  a  little  more  happy  than 

* 

the  ordinary  days  of  the  year. 

.December  25th.  Christmas  is  here,  but  as  I 
was  unable  to  get  out  with  the  water  squad  I 
was  unable  to  procure  anything  extra  to  eat. 
It  has  been  a  dismal  day  to  the  prisoners  of 


209 


Salisbury.  There  was  not  enough  joyous  feel¬ 
ing  in  the  whole  prison  to  prompt  a. man  to  say 
as  much  as  “Christmasi  Gift!’7  The  only  talk 
is  of  home  and  its  good  Christmas  cheer.  No 
matter  to  what  group  of  men  one  may  go,  or 
what  kind  of  conversation  one  may  introduce,  it 
will  not  be  long  until  the  thought  and  the  talk 
of  the  group  will  drift  back  to  the  old,  but 
pleasing,  subject,  of  how  their  mothers:  used  to 
cook.  Dear  reader,  do  not  laugh!  We  are 
slowly  but  surely  dying  of  hunger!  Our  talk  is 
the  only  way  we  have  of  satisfying  the  unspeak¬ 
able  craving  of  our  famished  bodies  for  food. 

As  the  day  advanced  I  went  to  the  sutler  and 
succeeded  in  trading  him  the  ring  I  had  made 
for  two  corn  meal  biscuits,  a  small  piece  of 
boiled  beef,  not  to  exceed  four  ounces,  five  pota¬ 
toes,  about  the  size  of  walnuts,  and  sixteen 
grains  of  black  pepper.  You  cannot  realize 
how  rich  I  felt.  The  meat  I  put  in  an  oyster 
can,  cut  the  potatoes  fine  and  put  them  in,  then 
added  the  pepper,  filled  the  can  with  water, 
placed  it  on  the  fire,  and  watched  the  process  of 
cooking  my  Christmas  dinner.  I  soon  found 
that  my  can  was  not  large  enough. to  hold  it  all, 
so  I  borrowed  another  can  and  divided  the  mess. 
In  due  time  it  wasi  cooked  in  fine  shape,  and 
never  did  prince,  potentate  or  king  eat  his 
sumptuous  feast  with  such  relish  and  delight  as 


210 


I  ate  my  Christinas'  dinner  of  1864  in  Salisbury 
Prison. 

December  26th.  This  morning  finds  me 
unable  to  walk,  my  feet  being  so  tender  I  cannot 
bear  my  weight  upon  them  without  suffering 
great  pain.  Oliver  Crocker  is  my  companion  in 
tribulation  and  retirement,  his  feet  being  so 
blistered  from  being  frozen  that  he  is  not  able  to 
walk.  We  two  occupy  the  hut  all  day.  This 
gives  us  an  opportunity  of  making  rings,  for 
which  I  am  thankful.  If  it  were  not  for  my 
good  fortune  in  the  ring  trade  I  must  certainly 
starve.  Fortunately  anything  made  by  a  Yank 
is  considered  by  the  citizens  of  this  region  to  be 
a  grea  t  prize,  invaluable  to  them  as  mementoes, 
and  for  which  they  are  willing  to  trade  food  of 
such  kinds  as  they  have,  when  they  would  not 
sell  it  for  rebel  scrip. 

A  number  of  the  prisoners  received  letters 
from  home  to  day,  but  as  I  was  not  acquainted 
with  any  of  the  fortunate  ones,  I  heard  no  news 
of  interest  to  me.  It  is  impossible  to  get  any 
news  of  importance  in  letters  from  the  north,  a,s 
nothing  is  allowed  to  come  into  the  prison 
except  news  of  a  purely  family  character. 

December  27th.  We  had  an  addition  of  five 
prisoners  to  our  number  this  morning.  They 
had  escaped  from  Andersonville  during  the 


211 


early  part  of  the  month,  and  after  much  wander¬ 
ing  around,  through  the  country,  were  finally 
recaptured  near  Raleigh  and  brought  to  this 
prison  for  confinement.  They  report  having 
endured  terrible  suffering  while  wandering 
through  the  swamps  and  rivers  in  order  to  hide 
their  tracks  from  the  bloodhounds  which  were 
put  on  their  track. 

A  rebel  officer  of  high  rank,  •said  to  be  Gen¬ 
eral  Winder,  accompanied  by  his  staff,  reviewed 
the  prison  to-day.  His  face  is  a  good  index  to 
his  base  heart.  He  was  promoted  by  the  South¬ 
ern  War  Department  to  be  Oommander-inChief 
of  all  the  prisons  in  the  south  because  he  pos¬ 
sessed  the  qualifications  necessary  for  such  a 
position — a  brute  nature  in  a  human  form. 

December  28th.  The  weather  continues  to 
be  very  cold.  I  am  still  suffering  great  agony 
from  my  swollen  limbs — am  unable  to  sleep  at 
night  or  walk  during  the  day.  My  condition  is 
becoming  deplorable.  How  little  we  know 
what  the  future  has  in  store  for  us.  We  often 
sing,  “It  is  Better  Farther  On,”  but  such  has 
not  been  the  experience  of  those  who  were 
removed  from  Libby  Prison  to  Salisbury  Prison. 
Bad  as  the  former  prison  was,  it  was  a  palace 
compared  to  the  prison  we  are  now  in.  There 
we  had  plenty  of  good,  pure  water,  good  shelter 
from  the  cold  and  storms,  and  a  fair  quality  of 

212 


bread  for  our  rations.  Here,  thousands  of  the 
poor  fellows  have  no  shelter  whatever,  while  we 
often  suffer  for  water,  and  always  for  food.  We 
were  all  anxious  to  get  away  from  Libby — we 
would  now  rejoice  to  be  permitted  to  return 
to  it. 

December  29  th.  I  had  a  talk  to-day  with  one 
of  the  recaptured  Andersonville  prisoners.  He 
reports  the  treatment  and  suffering  of  the  men 
there  about  the  same  as  here.  However,  they 
have  one  luxury  given  to  them  there  which  we 
do  not  get  here — bean  soup.  With  this  excep¬ 
tion,  he  says  Andersonville  and  Salisbury  stand 
related  to  each  other  as  hell  and  purgatory. 

The  deaths  are  constantly  increasing.  Our 
clothing  is  becoming  more  and  more  dilapidated 
by  the  constant  wear  and  tear  to  which  it  is 
subjected.  If  Jeff  Davis  does  not  send  a  corps 
of  tailors  here  very  soon  to  replenish  our  ward¬ 
robes,  we  will  be  in  much  the  same  condition 
we  were  in  when  we  first  opened  our  eyes  on 
this  wicked  world.  Those  who  can  get  hold  of 
a  “stiffs”  (the  dead  are  called  “stiffs”)  clothes, 
are  considered  to  be  fortunate.  How  inhuman 
even  honorable  men  can  become  under  the  ter¬ 
rible  power  of  suffering!  It  is  a  frequent  occur¬ 
rence  for  the  men  who  are  detailed  to  gather  up 
the  dead,  to  find  bodies  in  different  parts  of  the 
prison  pen.  They  were  dragged  there  from 

218 


tlieir  huts,  or  places  of  shelter,  after  they  had 
died,  to  be  stripped  of  their  clothes  by  the  liv¬ 
ing.  They  are  left  lying  where  they  were 
stripped,  are  gathered  np  and  delivered  to  the 
sergeant  in  command  of  the  dead-house.  In 
other  instances  the  dead  bodies  are  sold  as  arti¬ 
cles  of  commerce  by  those  who  find  them,  the 
value  of  a  body  being  estimated  by  the  quantity 
and  quality  of  the  clothing  it  has  on.  The  cloth 
ing  becomes  the  property  of  the  one  buying  the 
body. 

December  30th.  This  morning  is  the  first 
time  I  have  been  able  to  walk  since  Christmas 
Day.  I  can  walk  but  very  little  yet,  my  feet 
being  swelled  to  a  great  size.  This  is  the  condi¬ 
tion  of  nearly  all  inside  the  stockade,  many  of 
whom  are  unable  to  move  about  at  all.  The 
prisoners,  and  they  are  many,  who  are  affected 
with  scurvy  are  in  even  a  more  terrible  condi¬ 
tion.  They  present  a  ghastly  appearance1 — 
mouth  open,  teeth  loose,  many  of  them  gone, 
and  the  inside  of  the  mouth  so  sore  they  are 
unable  to  swallow  anything  unless  it  is  in  liquid 
form.  The  facilities  for  preparing  liquid  food 
are  so  limited  that  these  poor  fellows  are  among 
the  greatest  sufferers. 

December  31st.  This  is  the  last  day  of  the 
year  1864.  It  also  marks  the  last  day  on  earth 
of  thirty-five  brave  and  patriotic  soldiers  who 

214 


preferred  to  die  amid  the  tortures,  of  Salisbury 
Prison  than  enjoy  the  comforts  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy  by  proving  disloyal  to  their  Gov¬ 
ernment  and  its  Flag.  They  leave  about  8,000 
comrades  behind  them  who  give  notice  to  the 
bogus  Confederacy  that  they  too  are  determined 
to  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  these  noble  martyrs, 
and  will  help  to  till  trenches  under  the  shadow 
of  the  stockade,  rather  than  give  any  aid  or 
comfort  to  their  unholy  cause.  The  atrocities 
perpetrated  within  the  stockade  by  the  rebel 
authorities,  will  be  a  stain  on  the  reputation  of 
this  country  that  can  never  be  wiped  out. 

January  1st,  1865.  What  strange  and  radi¬ 
cal  changes  a  few  months  will  sometimes  bring 
to  pass.  What  a  wide  contrast  I  see  between 
my  surroundings  on  the  opening  day  of  1865 
and  those  of  one  year  ago!  This  ha,s  been  a 
dismal,  gloomy  day  to  the  prisoners  in  this 
stockade.  There  is  nothing  going  on  to  raise 
the  drooping  spirits  of  the  thousands  of  men 
who  have  been  hoping  against  hope.  All  oper¬ 
ations  in  tunnel  digging  have  ceased;  exchange 
stock  is  away  below  par — indeed  there  is  none 
at  all  in  the  market  now.  The  only  interest 
that  continues  to  hold  its  place  in  our  minds  is 
the  one  great  fact  of  hunger  and  something  to 
satisfy  its  cravings.  Groups  of  starving  men, 
reduced  to  mere  skeletons,  may  be  seen  huddled 


215 


together  talking  of  what  they  would  have  to 
eat  to-day  if  they  were  at  home.  The  very 
thought  of  home,  its  plenty  and  pleasures, 
seems  to  impart  strength  to  the  poor  fellows 
who  have  nothing  else  to  feed  on. 

January  2nd.  The  weather  has  become 

o 

warmer.  A  heavy  mist,  almost  equal  to  a  rain, 
fell  to-day.  A  horrible  thing  was  brought  to 
light  sometime  during  the  day.  A  dead  body, 
badly  decayed,  was  taken  from  one  of  the  sinks. 
From  the  appearance  of  the  body  it  must  have 
been  buried  in  the  depths  of  the  awful  filth  for 
a  week  or  more.  No  effort  was  made  by  the 
prison  authorities  to  remove  the  putrid  remains 
from  the  prison  grounds.  They  said  they  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  it  until  it  was  removed 
to  the  dead-house,  so  there  it  will  have  to  go  or 
remain  unburied. 

January  3rd.  This  morning  the  big  hospital 
(or  “Slaughter  House,”  as  it  is  justly  named), 
presents  a  sad  spectacle.  When  the  chimney 
was  erected,  it  was  placed  on  the  inside  of  the 
hospital  wall.  The  material  used  was  a  very 
poor  quality  of  soft  brick.  It  was  built  up  from 
the  ground  without  any  foundation  being 
placed  under  it  and  the  result  is,  the  lower 
courses  of  brick  were  crushed  and  the  whole 
structure  fell  the  full  length  of  the  building, 
killing  ten  men  and  wounding  several  others. 

216 


It  can  scarcely  be  called  a  disaster — rather  let 
it  be  called  a  kind  act  of  Providence  by  which 
poor,  suffering  men  are  released  from  their 
misery. 

January  4th.  The  weather  has  become  very 
cold  again.  There  was  a  severe  frost  last  night. 
The  ground  is  frozen  hard  and  a  cold,  northwest 
wind  is  blowing,  all  of  which  increases  the  suf¬ 
ferings  of  the  exposed  prisoners.  The  dead  list 
is  climbing  up  at  a  rapid  rate.  Large  numbers 
of  the  men  are  suffering  from  badly  frozen  feet. 
The  intense  cold  also  increases  the  agony 
caused  by  the  breaky-bone  fever.  I  am  again 
unable  to  walk,  my  feet  swelling  so  badly  that 
I  am  really  alarmed.  Large  blue  spots,  painful 
as  boils,  are  making  their  appearance  on  them. 
My  poor  stomach  is  in  such  a  state  that  I  can¬ 
not  retain  the  corn  bread  without  soaking  and 
boiling  it  into  a  liquid  form.  My  stomach  seems 
to  be  gradually  shrinking  as  I  can  now  eat  only 
one  pint  of  this  corn  bread  gruel  in  half  a  day, 
and  even  this  causes  me  great  suffering. 

January  5th.  One  advantage  gained  by  a 
residence  in  this  prison  is,  that  we  are  being 
trained  in  new  experiences  as  well  as  in  new 
observations.  To-day  I  witnessed  a  new  method 
of  removing  dead  bodies  for  burial.  Two 
negroes  were  brought  into  the  prison  having  a 
rope  with  a  great  hook  attached  to  it.  They 


217 


went  to  the  place  where  the  dead  body  taken 
from  the  sink  yesterday  was  lying  and  throwing 
the  hook  oyer  the  body,  dragged  it  out  to  the 
burying  ground.  It  was  in  such  a  decomposed 
condition  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  few  rags 
which  covered  it,  it  would  have  fallen  to  pieces 
before  it  reached  its  last  resting  place. 

We  were  punished  to-day  for  not  removing 
the  dead  body  ourselves  by  having  our  rations 
withheld  from  us.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that 
every  excuse  they  cau  possibly  find  to  make  the 
starving  process  more  complete  and  sure,  is 
improved  by  them. 

January  6th.  To-day  I  visited  the  citizen 
prisoners  and  hospitals.  It  seems  unreasonable 
that  their  own  men  should  be  kept  confined  in 
this  prison  and  away  from  their  families;,  with¬ 
out  any  charge  whatever  being  made  against 
them.  At  least  no  charges  are  made  public. 
The  condition  of  these  citizen  prisoners  is  some¬ 
what,  better  than  the  condition  of  the  soldier 
prisoners.  They  are  kept  by  themselves,  have 
much  better  rations,  and  are  favored  with  good 
shelter  from  the  storms  and  cold.  The  hos¬ 
pitals  remain  in  the  same  terrible  condition 
heretofore  described.  There  is  no  change  in 
either  the  surroundings  or  the  sufferings  of  the 
sick.  The  dead-house  registered  thirty-four 
dead  to-day. 


218 


Rations  were  issued  and  devoured  with  avid¬ 
ity  by  famishing  men.  I  finished  a  ring  with 
which  I  hope  to  be  able  to  purchase  some  food 
and  tobacco.  When  my  tobacco  supply  is 
exhausted,  my  ration  of  corn  bread  looks  very 
small  and  its  satisfying  qualities  are  still 
smaller.  It  is  a  real  fact  that  the  tobacco  pos¬ 
sesses  such  a  stimulating  power  that  when  I  am 
without  it  my  hunger  causes  terrible  suffering, 
but  with  it  to  supplement  my  supply  of  bread, 
I  am  comparatively  satisfied.  Great  is  tobacco! 
O,  for  more  of  it! 


219 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


In  Need  of  Fuel — A  Sad  Death  in  Our  Hut — A 
Wolf  in  Sheep’s  Clothing — Soup  and  Salt — 
The  Secret  of  the  Salt  Revealed — Rebel  Dev¬ 
iltry — More  Tobacco^ — Awful  Suffering — A 
Dream — A  Visitor — Red  Peppers — Escaped 
Prisoners  Recaptured — Terrible  Sights* — A 
Tunnel  Opened  and  About  a  Hundred  Go  Out 
— The  Escape  Discovered — Meat — Wearing 
Dead  Men’s  Clothing. 

January  7th.  Another  very  cold  morning 
and  consequent  suffering.  The  ration  of  fuel 
allowed  us  is  being  reduced  in  proportion  as  our 
bodily  strength  is  reduced,  as  all  we  are  allowed 
is  the  amount  three  men  can  carry  for  each 
squad.  We  select  our  stoutest  men  for  detail 
on  the  wood'  squad,  but  as  it  is  difficult  to  find 
three  men  who  are  not  affected  with  breaky- 
bone  fever  or  scurvy,  the  amount  of  green  pitch- 
pine  they  can  carry  such  a  long  distance  is  very 
small,  but  it  is  all  we  get.  Crocker  and  myself 
are  able  to  walk  around  some  now,  but  mv 
ankles  are  still  very  sore  and  my  feet  are  so 

220 


tender  the  pain  is  very  great-  when  I  put  them 
on  the  ground.  Crocker’s  frozen  feet  have 
healed  sufficiently  to  enable  him  to  walk  a  little, 
but,  as  they  were  frozen  into  a  solid  blister, 
which  caused  the  skin  to  peel  off,  they  are  left 
in  a  terrible  condition.  Just  think  of  men  being 
left  in  such  a  state  and  no  remedy  whatever 
given  them!  Who  can  find  any  excuse  what¬ 
ever  for  such  brutal  treatment? 

A  member  of  Co.  “H,”  of  my  regiment,  and  an 
occupant  of  the  south  end  of  our  dugout  died 
today.  A  strange  thing  about  this  death  is  that 
it  is  the  man  who-,  when  we  decided  on  this  loca¬ 
tion  for  our  dugout,  remarked!  that  it  was  so 
handy  to  the  dead-house  our  “friends  would  not 
have  far  to  carry  us,  when,”  as  lie  expressed  it, 
“we  handed  in  our  checks.”  Poor  fellow!  Little 
did  he  think  that  he  would  be  the  first  one  to 
be  carried  out.  It  is  sad  beyond  expression  to 
see  a  comrade  and  friend;  dying  in  such  a  shame¬ 
ful  manner  and  his  comrades  powerless  to  aid 
him.  But  such  is  the  fate  we  must  all  expect 
unless  relief  comes  to  us  very  soon. 

The  Catholic  priest  is  still  making  his  daily 
visits.  He  seems  to  manifest  more  interest  in 
the  prisoners  of  foreign  birth  than  in  Ameri¬ 
cans.  It  is  generally  believed  that  he  is  a  rebel 
recruiting  officer  in  disguise.  If  lie  is,  and  is 
picking  on  foreigners  as  his  easiest  victims  he 


221 


will  be  left  as  badly  a  si  he  will  be)  when  he 
knocks  for  admission  at  “The  Golden  Gate.” 

January  8th.  We  had  another  addition  to 
our  rations  today — a  pint  of  spotted  bean  soup, 
but,  as  usual,  containing  more  worms  than 
beans.  Still,  a  luxury  of  this  kind!  receives  no 
adverse  criticism  because  there  happen  to  be 
worms  in  it.  It  is  soup!  The  worms  are  the 
trimmings — we  wish  it  would  come  oftener, 
worms  and  all.  We  also  got  about  four  ounces 
of  salt.  But,  what  in  the  name  of  common  sense 
is  the  salt  for?  We  have  not  a  thing  in  the 
world  that  we  can  use  it  on,  in,  or  with.  We  are 
a  little  like  the  Irishman  who,  when  asked  what 
lie  had  to  eat,  replied: 

“I  have  potatoes  and  salt  for  breakfast;  salt 
and  potatoes  for  dinner;  and  salt  without  tim 
potatoes  for  supper.” 

We  are  having  the  Irishman’s  supper.  But 
we  had  one  painful  lesson  in  “salt”  taught  us 
when  we  eat  the  salt  codfish  in  Libbv  Prison  the 
night  we  started  for  our  present  residence.  Can 
it  be  they  are  arranging  another  pleasure  trip 
for  us?  I  really  hope  so.  It  matters  not  where 
they  take  us,  it  cannot  be  worse  than  this  place 
in  which  we  are  now  confined. 

January  9th.  This  morning  Connely  went 
out  with  the  wood-squad.  I  would  like  to  have 
the  double  rations  given  to  the  wood  men,  but 

222 


I  couldl  not  chop  much  wood.  This  morning 
reveals  the  secret  of  these  barbarous  wretches 
in  giving  us  the  salt  yesterday.  We  were 
informed  that  we  must  do  without  water  today, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  they  were  unable  to  fur¬ 
nish  soldiers  to  guard  the  water-carriers,  a 
detachment  of  tlieir  force  having  been  sent 
away  on  other  duty.  Our  only  resource  for 
water  to  quench  our  raging  thirst  is  the  filthy 
stuff  contained  in  the  wells  which  act  as  catch- 
basins,  for  all  the  filth  from  the  living  and  dead 
of  this  prison-pen.  Some  of  the  men  are  so 
nearly  crazed  for  water  that  they  resort  to  the 
expedient  of  scooping  out  holes  in  the  ground, 
and  as  the  snow  thaws  in  the  middle  of  the  day, 
the  water  runs  into  the  holes  and  is  eagerly 
drank  by  the  poor  fellows.  This  is  filthy  enough, 
but  is  not  quite  so  bad  as  that  taken  from  the 
wells.  This,  dear  reader,  is  rebel  chivalry. 
Could  Satan  himself  devise  more  ingenious 
plains  for  murder  by  slow  torture? 

January  10th.  I  have  been  out  of  tobacco  for 
two  days,  but  today  I  was  fortunate  to  procure 
a  plug  for  the  ring  I  finished  a  few  days  ago. 
Not  being  able  to  walk  sufficiently  to  go  with 
the  water-squad,  Connely  went  and  made  this 
happy  trade  for  me.  He  also  brought  in  some 
blackberry  roots,  which  we  boil  and  drink  the 
tea  as  medicine,  which  is  all  we  have.  Connely 


223 


seems  to  endure  the  hardships  and  privations  of 
prison  life  better  than  most  of  the  prisoners. 
If  do  not  know  what  I  should  do  if  he  was  not 
here.  He  takes  such  a  reasonable  view  of  the 
situation.  He  does  not  get  despondent  himself 
and  will  not  allow  Crocker  and  myself  to  brood 
and  complain  over  our  troubles,  which  we  cer¬ 
tainly  would  do  if  this  happy,  cheerful  comrade 
was  not  with  us.'  He  is  the  counselor,  adviser 
and  comfort  of  our  little  party.  Sad  would  be 
the  day  if  he  should  be  taken  away  from  us.  He 
is  a  noble  fellow. 

January  11th.  I  am  suffering  terribly  with 
my  feet  and  ankles  this  morning.  My  feet  are 
swollen  so  badly  I  cannot  walk  and  my  ankles 
and  legs  are  as  blue  as  indigo.  My  mouth  is 
also  very  sore,  while  my  teeth  are  so*  loose  that 
it  is  difficult  for  me  to  eat.  The  meal  of  which 
our  bread  is  made  is  much  coarser  than  form¬ 
erly,  and  they  are  now  putting  more  lime  in  it. 
How  men,  professing  to  be  human,  can  persist 
in  giving  poor,  helpless  creatures  such  stuff  to 
eat,  is  beyond  comprehension.  I  am  convinced 
that  I  cannot  stand  the  suffering  much  longer; 
I  feel  this  morning  as  if  the  end  must  come 
soon.  The  bread  being  only  half  baked,  sour 
and  poisoned  with  the  lime,  only  aggravates  my 
hunger.  My  stomach  is  so  weak  it  is  not  able 
to  do  the  work  the  millstone  ought  to  have  done. 


224 


A  CASE  OF  SCURVY. 


225 


I  am  convinced  this  is  all  done  for  the  purpose 
of  killing  the  prisoners  by  a  slow  but  sure  pro¬ 
cess, 

January  12th.  Last  night  was  one  that  I  shall 
long  remember,  it  being  one  of  excruciating 
suffering.  I  slept  but  little,  and  even  that  was 
disturbed  by  dreams.  Would  to  God  my  dreams 
would  prove  to  be  realities,  what  joy  would  be 
mine!  The  Salisbury  town  clock  can  be  heard 
striking  the  hours,  and  last  night  I  heard  it 
strike  every  hour  up  to  1  o’clock.  Then  I  went 
into  Dreamland.  I  dreamed  I  had  just  returned 
to  my  old  home  .  The  family  were  all  seated 
around  the  table  for  supper.  I  remarked  that 
I  was  fortunate  in  coming  home  just  in  time  for 
supper.  All  looked  amazed  to  see  a  stranger, 
as  they  supposed,  no  one  having  recognized  me, 
making  himself  so  familiar.  Seeing  this  I  spoke 
to  my  father  and  said: 

“Father,  is  it  possible  you  do  not  know  me?” 

He  gazed  at /me  steadily  for  a  moment,  then 
got  up  and  came  to  where  I  was,  and  taking  me 
in  his  arms,  said : 

“Frank,  is  it  possible  this  is  you?” 

I  replied,  “This  is  what  is  left  of  me.” 

Soon  all  the  family  were  gathered  about 
me,  and  after  a  general  handshaking  and  greet¬ 
ing,  I  informed  them  we  would  do  our  hand¬ 
shaking  after  supper,  because  I  was  very 

226 


hungry  just  then.  My  sister  immediately  placed 
a  plate  on  the  table  for  me.  I  quickly  perceived 
there  were  twelve  persons  seated  at  the  table 
and  I  would  make  the  thirteenth.  Being  of  a 
superstitious  nature,  I  believed  the  number 
thirteen  to  be  an  unlucky  number,  so  I  refused 
to  sit  at  the  table,  and  seated  myself  on  the  floor 
by  my  father.  I  told  them  that  was  the  way 
soldiers  eat  their  meals.  They  all  remonstrated 
against  my  position  on  the  floor,  and  a  half 
dozen  offered  me  their  places  at  the  table.  I 
was  persistent  in  refusing  all  offers  and  made 
them  keep  their  'places.  I  asked  for  a.  plate  of 
beans  which  was  given  to  me.  My  mother  then 
handed  me  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  as  I  took  it  from 
her  hand  the  cup  slipped  on  the  saucer,  turned 
over,  and  its  precious  contents,  almost  boiling 
hot,  fell  over  my  ankles  and  knees.  This  caused 
me  to  awake,  and,  dear  reader,  the  excruciating 
pains  in  my  limbs,  and  the  more  intense  pain 
of  disappointment  at  my  heart,  can  be  better 
imagined  than  told.  What  a  painful  awaken¬ 
ing;*  that  was!  From  the  plenty,  comfort,  love 
and  solicitude  of  Home,  to  find  myself  almost 
frozen  with  cold,  my  knees  and  ankles  aching  as 
if  they  would  burst,  while  the  hunger  gnawing- 
in  my  stomach!  was  terrible.  Here  I  was  in  a 
rebel  prison,  and  only  God  knows  when  or  how 
I  will  get  out  of  it.  In  the  darkness  and  still¬ 
ness  of  the  night  I  imagined  I  could  almost  feel 

227 


my  naked  body  on  the  dead  wagon,  jostling 
along  towards  the  grave  yard.  There  was  no 
more  sleep  for  me  that  night,  so  I  lay  on  my  pal¬ 
let  and  studied  over  my  pleasant  dream  until 
it  became  so  vivid  and  so  deeply  impressed  on 
my  mind  that  toi  forget  it  will  be  one  of  the 
impossibilities  of  my  life. 

January  13th.  The  long,  weary  night  has 
passed  away  and  the  morning  has  dawned,  but 
the  day  brings  no!  relief,  either  from  hunger  or 
pain.  Mv  knees  are  swelled  to  twice  their  nat¬ 
ural  size.  Our  suffering  is  increased  by  the 
intense  cold,  as  we  have  had  not  wood  for  two 
days.  Con  net  y  is  out  with  the  wood-squad  now, 
but  lie  will  not  be  in  until  nearly  dark,  and  I 
am  unable, to  move  about. 

Louis  Auringer,  of  the  81st  Pennsylvania, 
came  to  see  me  today.  He  manufactures  bone 
Bibles.  He  sat  and  worked  by  me  the  greater 
part  of  the  day.  We  talked  of  home,  friends, 
prospect  of  exchange,  and  other  things,  which 
made  the  day  pass  away  quite  pleasantly.  I 
cannot  feel  as  hopeful  of  exchange  as  lie  and 
some  others  do.  But  perhaps  I  am  too  much 
disposed  to  look  on  the  dark  side  of  things.  Still 
I  cannot!  avoid  facng  facts,  not  as  I  would  like 
to  have  them,  but  as  they  are. 

January  14th.  I  am  feeling  somewhat  better 
this  morning.  My  limbs  do  not  pain  me  so 

228 


much.  Last  evening  when  Co  n  net  y  returned  lie 
brought  with  him  two  of  the  largest  red  pep¬ 
pers  I  ever  saw.  I  made  a  strong  tea.  of  one 
and  drank  half  a  pint  of  it,  which  greatly  helped 
me.  I  slept  quite  well,  so  this  morning  I  feel 
more  encouraged  and  have  greater  hope  of 
recovering. 

The  three  prisoners)  who  escaped  on  the  12tli 
of  last  month  were  recaptured  and  returned  to 
the  prison  today.  They  had  almost  reached  our 
lines  when  they  were  betrayed  to  the  enemy. 
They  report  having  suffered  a  great  deal  during 
the  cold  nights.  If  they  had  been  a  little  more 
cautious  they  would  have  reached  our  lines  the 
next  night,  but  becoming  hungry,  they 
approached  a  negro,,  at  a  farm  house  to  ask  for 
food,  but!  instead  of  giving  food  to  them  lie 
betrayed  them.  Very  many  of  our  men  wlio 
escaped  from  the  prisons  of  the  South  were 
recaptured!  through  the  treachery  of  the  house 
servants,  for  they  were  treacherous.  But  it  is 
the  testimony  of  every  escaped  prisoner  that 
none  were  ever  betrayed  by  the  “field  hands,” 
or  common  negroes.  They  could  always  be 
approached  with  perfect  confidence,  and  would 
give  the  Union  prisoners  all  the  aid  within  their 
power,  often  acting  as  guides  through  unknown 
regions,  as  sentinels  to  warn  them  of  danger,  or 
as  providers  of  food.  These  poor  fellows  often 


229 


rendered  the  service  to  the  prisoners  at  the 
imminent!  risk  of  their  own  lives,  but  it  was 
given  cheerfully. 

January  15tli.  I  am  still  improving  both  in 
health  and  in  spirits.  I  new  begin  to  cherish  a 
reasonable  hope  that  I  may  yet  live  to  see 
“God’s1  country.”  I  am  now  able  to  eat  my  corn 
bread  by  breaking  it  up  and  soaking  it  in 
water.  I  have  not  been  able  to  walk  for  four 
days,  but  this  morning,  with  the  assistance  of  a 
cane,  I  am  able,  though  with  much  pain,  to  walk 
to  Market  Square.  In  walking  among  the  poor 
prisoners  in  this  pen,  it  isi  no  uncommon  sight 
to  see  men  whose  hands  and  feet  are  rotting  off 
them.  The  weather,  especially  the  nights,  has 
been  so  intensely  cold,  that  the  naked,  shelter¬ 
less  bodies  of  the  starving  men  were  unable  to 
endure  it,  or  escape  without  being  badly  frozen. 
Indeed,  thousands  had  their  extremities  so 
frozen  asi  to  destroy  life  in  these  parts,  which 
superinduced  a  rotting  of  the  tissues  by  a  kind 
of  dry  gangrene.  The  rotten  flesh  frequently 
remained  in  its  place  for  many  days,  a  loath¬ 
some  but  painless  mass.  It  finally  gradually 
sloughed  off,  leaving  the  sinews  which  passed 
through  it  to  stand  out  like  shining,  white  cords. 
Such  objects  are  to  be  seen  everywhere,  but 
more  especially  in  the  gangrene  ward,  in  the  big 
hospital.  The  surgeons  do  not  make  any  effort 

230 


to  check  the  disease,  but  simply  allow  it  to  run 
its  course  until  death,  or  permanent  disfigure¬ 
ment  results.  The  sick  are  increasing  to  such 
an  extent  that  every  building  in  the  stockade  is 
filled  to  its  utmost  capacity. 

January  16th.  The  prison  is  in  a,  state  of 
great  excitement  this  morning.  A  tunnel  which 
has  been  under  headway  for  about  two  weeks, 
was  opened  some  time  during  the  night  and 
about  a  hundred  prisoners  went  out  to 
temporary  freedom,  through  it,  The  com¬ 
pany  digging  this  tunnel  has  been  the 
best  organized  of  any  yet  engaged  iu  this  work. 
The  number  of  operators  was  limited  to  twenty- 
five  men,  each  of  whom  was  bound  by  the  most 
solemn  oath  not  to  reveal  the  movement  until 
it  was  completed.  The  tunnel  being  done  a 
meeting  was  held  yesterday  and  it  was  agreed 
to  open  it  up  last  night  at  “low  twelve.”  It  was 
agreed  that  each  man  belonging  to  the  organi¬ 
zation  could  have  the  privilege  of  taking  two  of 
his  friends  with  him  through  the  tunnel.  The 
proviso  was  included  that  the  men  who  had 
done  the  work  should  go  through  at  12  o’clock, 
then  their  friends  to  follow  at  1  o’clock,  thus 
allowing  the  originators)  of  the  movement  to 
gain  their  exit  and  have  one  hour’s  start  before 
the  crowd  should  rush  through,  and  thus 
endanger  the  safety  of  all. 

231 


January  17th.  This  is  the  eagerly-looked  for 
slaughter  day,  and  our  regular  ration  of  corn 
dodger  is  accompanied  by  some  meat,  consisting 
of  the  offals  of  the  beeves.  Disgusting  as  such 
meat  would  be  to  us  ait  home,  here  it  is  hailed 
with  delight,  and  is  eaten  with  an  eagerness  and 
a  relish  that  is  astonishing.  But  men  dying 
from  starvation  and  exposure  will  eat  anything 
that  gives  promise  of  sustaining  life. 

Good  fortune  befel  me  today.  I  came  into 
possession  of  a  pair  of  trousers  which  I  con¬ 
verted  into  a  pair  of  moccasins,  which  adds 
greatly  to  the  comfort  of  my  poor,  sore  feet. 
What  a  power/  there  is  in(  circumstances  to 
enable  one  to  overcome  his  prejudices!  How 
heathenish  a  man  would  be  considered  who 
would  take  a  pair  of  trousers  off  a  dead  man 
and  put  them  on  his  own  person,  or  cut  them  up 
for  other  purposes!  But  here  it  is  different. 
When  men  die  in  this  prison  pen  they  are  taken 
to  the  trenches  naked.  Some  poor  fellow  con¬ 
siders  himself  in  good  fortune  if  lie  can  appro¬ 
priate  to  himself  the  few  articles  of  clothing 
the  dead  man  may  have  on  him.  Personally,  I 
have  laid  aside  all  the  repugnance  to  wearing 
dead  men’s  clothes.  My  chief,  and  indeed,  my 
only  regret  is  that  the  dead  man  had  suffered 
his  wardrobe  to  diminish  to  such  scanty  pro¬ 
portions  before  I  made  his  acquaintance.  If 

232 


the  treatment  we  are  suffering  continues  much 
longer,  I  fear  we  shall  be  led  to  appropriate  not 
only  the  clothes,  but  also  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 

For  the  first  time  in  ai  whole  week  I  made  a 
trip  to  the  east  end  of  the  prison  to  see  some  of 
the  comrades  who  are  situated  near  the  east 
side.  I  find  the  same  suffering  there  that  pre¬ 
vails  everywhere.  They  are  without  clothing 
sufficient  to  keep  them  from  extreme  suffering. 
More  than  half  the  squad  are  barefooted,  and 
many  of  them  have  badly  frozen  feet.  Oonnely 
has  resigned  his  position  on  the  wood-squad, 
and  is  reduced  to  regular  prison  fare.  The 
weather  is  very  cold  again.  About  three  inches 
of  snow  fell  during  the  night,  and  the  wind  is 
cold  and  piercing,  all  of  which  adds  to  our  dis¬ 
tress.  Many  of  the  prisoners  are  yielding  up 
their  lives  to  the  terrible  torture. 

News  has  reached  us  this  evening  that  the 
tunnel  has  been  discovered  and  hunting,  accom¬ 
panied  by  blood  hounds,  are  in  pursuit  of  the 
escaped  prisoners.  The  report  was  brought  in 
bv  one  of  the  bovs  who  went  out  this  evening 
with  the  wood-squad.  God  pity  the  poor  fel¬ 
lows;  they  can  scarcely  hope  to  escape  capture, 
or  death  bv  the  terrible  blood  hounds. 


233 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Lonely  and  Sad — Night  Sounds — A  Visit — Con 
nely  Leaves  the  Wood  Squad — A  Wrathful 
Commander — A  Man  Shot  by  the  Guards — 
Their  Ideas  of  a  Yankee — Some  of  the 
Escaped  Prisoners  Recaptured — Tradesmen 
in  Demand — A  Sad  Case- — Masonic  Charity. 

January  18th.  Major  Gee  is  out  of  humor 
this  morning.  He  came  into  the  prison  fol¬ 
lowed  by  about  a  dozen  guards,  called  the  pris¬ 
oners  to  “Attention!”  and  demanded  them  to 
; n form  him  where  the  tunnel  was  opened  lost 
night.  He  informed  us  that  no  rations  would 
be  issued  to  us  until  we  gave  him  the  much- 
coveted  information.  None  of  the  men  seemed 
to  know  where  the  tunnel  was  started,  in  fact, 
the}'  professed  entire  ignorance  of  -  the  whole 
affair.  He  ordered  his  guards  to  institute  a 
careful  search  for  it,  which  resulted  in  finding  it 
near  the  west  side,  which  was  directly  south  of 
Gee’s  headquarters.  It  seems  that  after  the 
escaped  prisoners  went  out,  the  hole  through 

234 


which  they  made  their  exit  was  closed  up  so 
completely  that  the  tunnel  was  not  discovered 
until  late  in  the  evening.  This  piece  of  Yankee 
ingenuity  lias  so  completely  outwitted  the  Major 
that  he  is  cursing  and  storming  around  like  a 
crazy  man,  and  his  wrath  is  heaped  on  our  poor 
beads.  He  swears  we  will  get  no  more  rations 
until  the  fugitives  are  brought  back.  My  earn¬ 
est  prayer  is  that  they  may  all  reach  our  lines 
and  then  our  true  condition  will  be  made  known 
to  the  people  of  the  North  who  will  rise  up  and 
demand  that  our  Government  shall  send  an 
army  here  to  release  us  and  destroy  this 
accursed  place. 

The  excitement  outside  must  be  intense  judg¬ 
ing  from  the  commotion.  One-half  of  the  gar¬ 
rison  is  under  marching  orders,  and  we  can  dis 
tinctly  hear  the  tread  of  many  horses. 

The  most  awful  threats  are  being  made  as  to 
the  fate  of  the  escaped  prisoners,  if  they  are 
caught,  which  God  forbid.  But  it  will  certainly 
be  a  sorrowful  time  for  any  poor  fellow  if  he 
should  be  caught,  especially  while  the  excite¬ 
ment  is  raging  as  it  is  now.  Many  of  the  citi¬ 
zens  from  the  town  of  Salisbury  are  on  the 
walks  with  the  guards,  and  exulting  that  we 
were  where  we  could  not  run  away  their  “nig¬ 
gers”  and  burn  their  barns.  What  debasement 
of  humanity  that  such  low  and  contemptible 

235 


insults  should  be  flung  in  the  faces  of  helpless 
men  those  who  are  ranked  among  the  “blue 
bloods”  of  the  South! 

January  19th.  This  day  witnessed  another 
foul,  .unwarranted  and  cold-blooded  murder. 
One  of  the  men  belonging  to  a  Michigan  regi¬ 
ment,  was  shot  through  the  body  while  wander¬ 
ing  near  the  dead-line.  The  man  was  seen  by 
a  dozen  or  more  of  the  prisoners  and  all  declare 
he  was  not  over  or  near  the  dead-line.  He  was 
shot  by  one  of  the  South  Carolina  Reserves. 
They  have  two  regimentsi  here  composed  of  boys 
under  military  age.  These  young  fellows  who 
have  grown  up  since  the  war  began,  imbibed  the 
idea  that  a  “Yankee”  was  not  a  human  being, 
and  that  it  was  not  any  more  harm  to  shoot  one 
than  it  was  to  kill  a  wild  beast.  Their  passions 
had  been  inflamed  by  wild  and  terrible  stories 
of  the  cruelty  and  depravity  of  the  Yankees, 
until  they  believed  it  was  a  meritorious  thing 
to  improve  every  opportunity  to  exterminate 
them.  Evidently  the  young  murderer  who  com¬ 
mitted  this  crime  had  no  more  idea  that  he  had 
committed  a  crime  than  if  he  had  killed  a  vene- 
mousi  reptile.  We  are  also  convinced  that  the 
commander  of  the  prison  takes  the  same  view  of 
the  case,  because  the  young  scoundrel  was  not 
even  relieved  from  duty.  But  this  man  Gee, 

236 


the  commander,  is  more  guilty  than  the  guard. 
Ilis  method  of  murder  is  more  hideousi  and  bar¬ 
barous  than  death  by  the  rifle  ball.  He  intends 
to  starve  us  to  death,  as  we  have  gone  without 
rations  of  any  kind  for  two  days,  and  a  good 
prospect  to  go  the  third  day  in  the  same  way. 

January  19th.  The  result  of  this  attempt  to 
reach  “Gad’s  Country’7  is  a  reduction  of  rations 
and  a  resort  to  everv  restriction  which  could 

pj 

possibly  be  conceived  by  a  rebel.  While  in 
Libby  I  imagined  that  the  deeds  of  villainy  were 
well  nigh  exhausted.  I  had  thought  that  the 
catalogue  of  crime  was  nearly  filled  by  the 
incarnate  Turner  and  his  hosts. 

But  alas!  you  have  only  to  see  the  heartless- 
nesis  and  intrigues  of  the  authorities  here  of 
Major  Gee  and  his  associates  Johnson  and 
others,  and  you  have  only  to  witness  the  suffer¬ 
ing,  the  frenzy  and  the  fever  and  you  will  then 

say,  that  these  are  the  deedsi  of  pitiless 
monsters. 

January  20th.  This  morning  about  a  dozen, 
of  the  escaped  prisoners  were  recaptured  about 
forty  miles  northeast  of  the  prison.  The  hounds 
ran  them  into  an  old  planter’s  house  and  there 
they  were  taken.  The  rebels  and  the  hounds 
are  still  in  pursuit  of  the  rest  of  the  fugitives. 
The  returned  men  report  that  after  they  got 
away  from  the  stockade  they  divided  into 

237 


squads  of  about  teu  and  twelve  and  traveled  in 
different  directions,  hoping  by  so  doing  to  make 
the  escape  of  some  at  least  more  possible. 

During  the  excitement  of  the  last  few  days 
I  have  been  on  my  feet  more  than  I  have  since 
Christmas.  It  is  a  great  pleasure,  and  affords 
me  great  happiness,  to  be  able  to  walk  around 
once  more.  The  exercise  is  very  beneficial  to 
me.  It  isi  difficult  to  get  around  because  the 
the  mud  is  very  deep,  which  is  a  poor  condition 
of  things  for  old,  woolen  moccasins.  The  Major 
has  either  relented,  or  is  feeling  rejoiced  over 
the  return  of  a  part  of  the  escaped  men,  as  our 
rations  of  corn  dodger  came  to  ust  again,  for 
which  we  are  very  thankful. 

January  21st.  The  irrepressible  recruiting 
officer  is  plying  his  vocation  with  renewed 
energy.  The  scarcity  of  mechanics  of  all  kinds, 
and  the  pressing  needs  of  the  bogus  Confeder¬ 
acy,  have  influenced  them  to  hold  out  all  kinds 
of  inducements  to  the  mechanics  among  the 
prisoners  to  go  out  and  enter  the  employ  of  the 
Confederacy.  Shoemakers  are  especially  in 
demand;  next  to  them  are  the  blacksmiths, 
machinists,  moulders,  metal-workers,  harness 
and  wagon  makers.  There  has  not  been  a  week 
since  we  came  to  this  prison  that  a  rebel  recruit¬ 
ing  officer  has  not  gone  among  the  prisoners 
seeking  to  induce  men  of  these  trades  to  give 

288 


their  service  to  the  rebel  government.  Such 
men  can  go  out  any  time  on  parol  and  are  prom¬ 
ised  fabulous  wage's. 

Being  a  harness  maker  by  trade,  I  have  been 
approached  by  several  officers  who  have  tried  by 
all  kinds  of  promises  to  induce  me  to  give  them 
the  benefit  of  my  knowledge  of  harness  making. 
I  have  been  offered  thirty  and  forty  dollars  a 
week,  good  board,  plenty  of  tobacco  free  of  cost, 
and  a  comfortable  Confederate  uniform.  But 
the  pay  was  to  be  in  rebel  scrip,  worth  from  ten 
to  twenty  cents  on  the  dollar;  and  wearing  a 
rebel  uniform  was  far  more  repugnant  to  me 
than  wearing  the  clothes  of  the  dead,  but  loyal, 
true  and  brave  Union  soldiers.  The  labor  of 
the  large  numbers  of  skilled  workmen  of  all 
kinds  to  be  found  among  the  prisoners,  would 
have  been  invaluable  to  the  needy  Confederacy. 
Our  shoemakers  , machinists  and  railroad  men 
could  have  done  more  to  help  the  rebel  cause 
by  making  shoes  for  their  barefooted  soldiers', 
repairing  and  running  their  railroad  trains, 
than  a  division  or  two  of  our  army  could  have 
done  to  injure  them.  Never  before  did  the 
South  feel  the  lack  of  skilled  laborers  as  it  does 
now.  They  had  plenty  of  men  at  their  com¬ 
mand,  but  the  men  who  were  competent  to  go 
into  their  railroad  shops  and  put  their  old  roll¬ 
ing  stock  in  order,  and  run  their  trains  after 

239 


they  were  made  ready,  were  very  scarce.  And 
the  same  is  true  of  all  other  classes  of  skilled 
labor.  The  contrast  between  the  armies  of  the 
North  and  the  South  in  the  matter  of  skilled 
workmen,  was  very  great.  Salisbury  Prison 
contained  among  its  thousands  of  prisoners 
many,  very  many,  of  the  best  and  most  compe¬ 
tent  mechanics  of  all  kinds — men  who,  by  edu¬ 
cation,  training  and  experience,  were  compe¬ 
tent  to  carry  on  any  business,  run  machine 
shops,  railroad  engine?,  and  everything  else 
that  was  needed.  The  rebel  authorities  not 
only  realized  but  openly  acknowledged  this 
state  of  things,  by  holding  out  such  great 
inducements  to  our  skilled  workmen  to  enter  the 
service  of  the  rebel  Government.  But  all  their 
solicitations,  inducements  and  promises  were 
spurned  with  indignation.  Our  men  were  deter¬ 
mined  to  die  rather  than  gain  their  liberty  at 
the  expense  of  disloyalty  to  the  old  flag.  The 
almost  invariably  reply  to  all  solicitations  was: 

No,  sir  ;  I  will  stay  here  until  the  maggots  and 
lice  devour  my  carcass,  before  I  will  lift  a  finger 
to  aid  your  infernal  Confederacy  and  its  army!” 

Of  course,  there  were  a  few  exceptions  to  this 
rule,  but  only  a  few.  I  remember  one  comrade 
of  my  regiment  went  out  as  a  mechanic,  and 
three  days  after  deserted  them.  In  the  early 
part  of  December  he  reached  home  but  was  a 

240 


complete  mental  wreck.  The  untold  hardships 
of  his  homeward  journey — sleepless  nights, 
foodless  days,  evading  blood  hounds  and  rebel 
patrols — was  more  than  he  could  endure,  so  that 
when  he  did  reach  his  home,  it  was  found  that 
the  light  of  reason  had  fled,  and  he  ended  his 
davs  a  total  wreck. 

January  22nd.  One  of  the  most  notable  feat- 
ures  of  our  brutal  treatment  by  the  rebels  and 
citizens  of  Salisbury,  is  our  complete  abandon 
ment  bv  all  religious  denominations.  The  only 
visit  we  have  had  from  a  minister  of  any  relig 
ions  denomination  has  been  a  Catholic  priest 
who  has  visited  us  occasionally.  We  are  treated 
as  if  we  were  brutes  without  souls,  moral 
instincts,  or  spiritual  needs.  The  only  interest 
manifested  by  these  rebels  in  the  welfare  of  any 
of  the  prisoners,  is  shown  by  members  of  the 
Masonic  and  Odd  Fellow  Orders.  I  mention 
this  as  it  was  the  only  recognition  manifested 
by  any  of  our  foes  to  the  claims  of  human  kin¬ 
ship.  Members  of  these  orders  among  the  rebel 
soldiers  and  citizens  interested  themselves  in 
securing  details  outside  the  stockade,  in  the 
cook  house,  the  commissary  department,  and 
elsewhere,  for  their  brothers  among  the  pris 
oners,  who  would  accept  such  favors  at  their 
hands.  Some  of  the  more  favored  ones  were 
out  on  parole  of  honor,  and  enjoyed  certain  lib- 

241 


erties  under  certain  restrictions,  not  granted  to 
others.  Such  of  the  fraternity  among  the  pris- 
oners  as  did  not  feel  inclined  to  go  out  on  parole 
received  presents  in  the  shape  of  extra  food, 
especially  of  vegetables,  which  were  worth  their 
weight  in  gold.  Material  was  also  furnished 
them  out  of  which  to  construct  huts  for  their 
ase.  Such  as  made  themselves  known  before 
they  died,  were  buried  according  to  the  rites 
and  customs  of  the  orders.  The  prison  surgeon, 
and  probably  all  the  assistant  surgeons,  were 
members  of  these  fraternities,  and  the  wearing 
of  a  Masonic  or  Odd  Fellow  emblem  by  a  pris¬ 
oner,  was  sure  to  be  recognized,  and  to  be  the 
magic  amulet  that  would  procure  for  the  wearer 
the  tender  of  their  professional  services.  These 
prisoners  are  detailed  in  the  hospitals  as  nurses, 
ward-masters  and  such  like,  as  a  recognition  of 
fraternal  obligation  and  friendship.  In  one 
instance  I  personally  know  of  a  Mason  divulg¬ 
ing  the  secrets  of  the  order  to  a  comrade  (on  the 
conditions,  and  solemn  promise,  that  if  he  lived 
to  get  home  he  would  join  the  order)  which 
secured  him  a  parole  of  honor,  and  was  the 
means  of  saving  his  life. 

I  was  not  fortunate  enough  to  belong  to  either 
of  the  Brotherhoods  (but  I  often  wished  I  did 
belong  to  them),  so  that  I  missed  the  advantage 
of  these  fraternal  friendships  and  the  benefits 

242 


they  procured,  I  take  special  pride  in  empha¬ 
sizing  one  fact,  that  during  the  entire  long  per¬ 
iod  of  my  imprisonment,  I  was  not  brought 
under  any  obligations  to  any  of  Jeff  Davis’  fol¬ 
lowers  for  a  single  favor  of  any  kind.  No 
scoundrel  of  the  whole  crew  live's,  or  ever  did 
live,  who  can  say  that  he  ever  did  me  the  slight¬ 
est  favor  of  any  kind,  not  even  the  gift  of  a  kind 
word.  From  first  to  last  I  received  nothing  but 
my  regular  rations  (and  even  these  were  often 
withheld  from  me),  except  as  I  would  receive 
extra  food,  or  tobacco,  from  private  citizens  in 
trade  for  rings  of  my  own  manufacture.  I  owe 
no  man  in  the  Confederacy  any  debt  of  grati¬ 
tude — and  I  am  glad  of  it. 


243 


CHAPTER  XX. 


No  Tidings  From  the  Escaped  Prisoners- — Good 
Wishes  and  Earnest  Prayers  Follow  Them — 
Negro  Prisoners  Dying — Their  Sad  Condition 
— Husk  vs.  Corn — More  Fugitives'  Captured — 
Disappointed  Traders — Dignity  Galore — 

Yankee  Perfumery — Sad  Condition  of  the  Cit¬ 
izen  Prisoners — Sights  Unequaled — Writing 
to  Friends — Rumors  of  Exchange — Joyful 
Demonstrations — Out  of  Tobacco. 

January  23rd.  We  are  still  without  tidings 
from  the  men  in  pursuit  of  the  escaped  prison¬ 
ers.  Companies  of  citizens  from  the  adjacent 
country  and  a  part  of  the  garrison,  accompanied 
by  numerous  blood  hounds,  have  been  in  pur¬ 
suit,  but  so  far  only  one  small  squad  has  been 
brought  back.  The  effect  of  this  is  to  inspire 
encouragement  in  the  hearts  of  those  of  us  who 
remain.  If  good  wishes  and  earnest  prayers 
will  assist  the  brave  fellows  to  succeed  in  reach¬ 
ing  our  lines,  they  will  never  be  apprehended 
and  returned  to  this  den. 


244 


The  number  of  fiegro  prisoners  1ms  dimin¬ 
ished  to  an  alarming  degree.  Out  of  about  300 
who  were  brought  here,  1  do  not  think  there  are 
fifty  left,  and  they  are  in  a  fair  way  to  follow 
their  comrades.  They  receive  the  •same  rations 
the  white  prisoners  get,  but  they  fare  worse  in 
other  respects.  They  do  not  seem  to  have  the 
energy  and  grit  of  the  white  men  to  provide 
themselves  with  shelter.  They  will  also  dispose 
of  the  last  garment  they  possess  for  a  sweet 
potato  or  a  bite  of  bread.  I  saw  one  negro  this 
morning  trade  his  shoes  for  a  sweet  potato,  a 
small  piece  of  bread  and  a  chew  of  tobacco,  turn¬ 
ing  his  pedals  out  naked  to  the  weather.  This 
means  one  more  victim  for  the  dead-wagon, 
because  a  negro  is  like  a  young  turkey,  when  lie 
gets  chilled  through  he  turns  up  his  toes,  frotlrs 
at  the  mouth,  then  all  is  over  with  him. 

Our  rations  came  to-day  as  usual.  It  is 
amazing  how  much  husk  there  i,s  in  the  corn  in 
this  forsaken  country.  The  bread  we  get  to  eat 
is  nearly  one-half  husk,  or  corn-bran,  or  some¬ 
thing  of  that  nature.  I  know  if  this  kind  of 
corn  was  raised  up  North,  Yankee  ingenuity 
would  bring  about  same  kind  of  transformation 
in  the  seed  so  that  it  would  produce  more  corn 
and  less  husk. 

January  24th.  When  we  were  received  in 
this  vile  prison  there  were  no  sick  or  wounded 

245 


men  among  the  prisoners,  but  there  are  not 
to-day  five  hundred  well  men  among  8,000  inside 
the  stockade;  this  is  a  lamentable  fact  and  the 
rebel  surgeons  coincide  in  this  belief.  The  mud 
is  ankle1  deep  all  over  the  prison  and  no  dry 
place  to  be  found  only  under  the  wooden  hos¬ 
pital  and  that  is  tilled  to  overflowing  all  hours, 
day  and  night. 

1  borrowed  a  pair  of  shoes  from  Comrade 
Htrawser,  one  of  our  boys,  and  went  out  with 
the  water  squad.  1  wanted  an  opportunity  to 
trade  a  ring  for  something  to  eat,  but  to  my  dis¬ 
gust,  our  guards  were  some  of  the  young  tar- 
heels  (South  Carolina  Reserves),  who  were  mean 
and  devilish  enough  to  prevent  us  from  trading 
with  the  citizens,  who  were  waiting  and  anx¬ 
ious  to  exchange  tobacco,  sweet  potato  pies, 
and  sweet  potatoes  for  any  kind  of  relics  made 
inside  the  prison.  But  these  young  bloods 

would  not  allow  it,  giving  as  an  excuse, 

*  # 

“It  is  ?ginst  odalis  to  Tow  it!” 

That  such  orders  had  been  given  them  we 
have  no  doubt,  as  a  commissioned  officer  accom¬ 
panied  them  to  see  that  the  “odalis”  were 
obeyed.  He  was  a  pitiful  second  lieutenant, 
who  assumed  all  the  dignity  and  authority  of  a 
Major  General.  From  his  general  appearance 
and  demeanor  if  he  could  have  been  sold  at  his 
own  estimated  value,  the  returns  would  have 

246 


paid  off  the  entire  war  debt  of  both  sections, 
leaving  the  country  free  to  do  as  it  pleased.  We 
returned  to  camp  with  water,  but  no  ration's. 

January  25th.  This  morning  the  weather  is 
much  warmer  than  it  has  been  for  several  days. 
With  a  drizzling  rain  and  a  heavy  atmosphere, 
the  odor  from  the  sinks  is  beyond  description. 
One  of  the  guards  said  the  citizens  could  smell 
it  three  miles  away  and  then  remarked: 

“I  didn’t  know  you  all  smelt  so;  why,  you 
Yanks  smells  worse  than  niggers!” 

Comrade  Judson,  of  Co.  “II,”  of  our  regi¬ 
ment,  who  is  one  of  the  stockholders  in  our  dug- 
out,  is  very  low  with  malarial  fever  and  scurvy. 
The  probabilities  are  we  will  have  to  carry  him 
to  the  dead-house.  I  visited  the  citizen-prison¬ 
ers’  headquarters  to-day  and  find  the  same  suf¬ 
fering  there  that  prevails  everywhere  within 
this  prison  hell.  Their  despondency  and  hope¬ 
lessness  are  plainly  visible  in  their  haggard 
faces.  A  great  many  of  them  have  died,  while 
others  are  terribly  afflicted  with  scurvy,  and  are 
unable  to  walk. 

An  interior  view  of  this  prison  presents  a  pic¬ 
ture  of  misery  and  despair  which  lias  never  been 
paralleled  on  God’s  earth.  One  must  go  through 
the  prison  pens  of  the  Southern  Confederacy  to 

247 


see  sights  and  conditions  which  cannot  be  seen 
anywhere  else. 

I  wrote  a  letter  to-day  for  D.  W.  Connely  to 
his  sister,  Mrs.  Frank  Wade,  who  lives  in  the 
neighborhood  where  my  wife  lives.  I  enclosed 
a  few  lines  to  my  wife.  All  letters  must  be  con 
fined  to  six  lines,  and  nothing  derogatory  to  the 
Confederacy,  or  the  management  of  this  prison, 
must  be  written  therein.  It  is  vexatious  to  be 
compelled  to  write  to  our  friends  that  wre  are 
all  right;  and,  perhaps/,  according  to  the  stand¬ 
ard  of  prison  conditions,  we  are  all  right — at 
least  we  think  so  if  we  are  only  able  to  walk. 

January  26th.  Market  square  is  a  central 
meeting  point  for  all  inside  the  prison  and  is 
gaining  great  notoriety.  All  who  are  able  to 
walk  are  certain  to  meet  here  at  least  once  a 
day  to  exchange  gossip  and  eagerly  listen  to  the 
latest  reports  pertaining  to  our  exchange  and 
most  of  all,  to  curse  the  rebels  and  the  bogus 
Confederacy.  Their  wrath  was  raised  to  a  high 
pitch  to-day  when  an  emissary  of  the  Confed¬ 
eracy  made  his  appearance  with  all  the  pomp 
and  dignity  hisi  bald-faced  impudence  could 
inspire,  and  placed  on  the  market  Confederate 
shin  plasters,  five  dollars  for  one  greenback,  liis 
stock  of  trade  being  so  low  no  business  was 
done.  Greenbacks  commanding  a  high  premium, 
he  finally  offered  fifty  to  one,  when  he  retired 

248 


amid  the  curses  and  derision  of  the  prisoners. 

Tliisi  evening  about  a  dozen  of  those  who 
escaped  on  the  night  of  the  16th  were  brought 
back  to  the  prison.  They  report  having  been 
traced  by  blood  hounds  and  were  recaptured  by 
citizens.  Every  able-bodied  man  not  in  the 
Southern  army  is  patroling  the  country  for 
rebel  deserters  and  escaped  prisoners,  which 
makes  escape  almost  impossible. 

January  27th.  The  weather  is  again  cold; 
the  ground  froze  last  night,  but  the  sun  has 
come  out  bright  and  full  of  a  genial  warmth 
this  morning.  Would  to  God  it  might  pour 
some  rays  of  hope  and  sunshine  into  our  poor, 
hopeless  hearts!  I  am  happy  to  say  my  feet  are 
improving  so  I  am  able  to  take  my  customary 
morning  walk.  About  one-half  of  our  boys  are 
stationed  near  the  east  side,  the  rest  are  quar¬ 
tered  near  the  center  of  the  grounds  east  and 
west,  but  'south  of  the  center  north  and  south. 
There  is  little  motive  for  motion  of  any  kind, 
and  no  room  for  exercise,  however  strong  our 
desire  might  be  in  that  direction.  Many  of  the 
prisoners  yielded  unresistingly  to  the  despond¬ 
ency  which  naturally  arose  from  the  dull, 
routine  life  we  are  compelled  to  live.  It 
requires  great  determination  and  exertion  to 
take  exercise  here.  .  The  tendency  is  to  lie  still, 
fret  and  die.  The  ground  is  all  pre-empted,  or 

249 


homesteaded,  and  is  so  full  of  holes  and  other 
devices  for  shelter,  that  it  requires  considerable 
time,  patience  and  care  to  pick  one’s  way 
through  the  narrow  paths  between  the  different 
parts  of  the  prison.  I  usually  walk  over  to  the 
dead-house  and  from  there  to  the  east  side,  to 
hear  the  gossip  of  the  day.  Then  I  would  visit 
the*  hospital  and  render  what  assistance  I  could 
to  my  sick  comrades.  I  then  returned  to  Mar¬ 
ket  Square,  where  everything  in  the  stockade 
is  bought  and  sold.  Here  I  traded  for  rubber 
buttons  and  rubber  combs*,  the  material  out  of 
which  I  made  my  finger  rings.  This  daily  trip, 
attending  roll-call,  making  bread-coffee,  skir¬ 
mishing  for  “game”  among  the  dilapidated 
clothing,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  making  finger 
rings,  constituted  the  daily  routine  of  my  life 
within  Salisbury  stockade. 

January  28th.  Great  excitement  prevails 
among  our  boys  at  the  south  side  this  morning. 
It  is  the  general  belief  that  the  day  of  our 
release  from  this  prison  is  near  at  hand.  The 
report  has  reached  us  that  terms  of  exchange 
have  been  agreed  upon,  and  we  are  to  leave 
here  during  the  coming  week.  The  news  came 
from  one  of  the  old  guards  who  says  he  has  been 
in  a  position  to  learn  the  facts.  Whether  true 
or  not,  the  report  has  acted  like  magic  on  the 
prisoners.  They  are  showing  their  hopes  in 

250 


their  cheerful  faces  and  expressions  of  joy.  All 
are  hoping  we  are  not  being  deceived  as  we  have 
been  heretofore. 

January  29th.  The  weather  is  moderating 
and  the  suffering  from  cold  is  decreasing.  If 
the  terrible  diseases  and  vermin  would  only 
abate  likewise,  life  would  become  more  toler¬ 
able  to  us,  but  there  is  no  sign  of  dimunition  in 
either  of  these  plagues.  The  sanitary  condi¬ 
tion  of  the  prison  becomes  worse  and  worse.  It 
is  almost  impossible  to  endure  the  terrible  efflu¬ 
via  which  is  constantly  arising.  The  news  of 
exchange  is  having  a  good  effect  on  the  sick  as 
well  as  on  the  well. 

January  30th.  We  would  judge  from  the  joy¬ 
ful  demonstrations  at  the  Sergeant’s  headquar¬ 
ters  last  night  that  we  had  already  received 
orders  to  go  to  “God’s  country.”  The  hope  of  a 
speedy  exchange  is  given  so  much  credence  that 
the  Sergeants  were  having  a  jolly  time.  Patri¬ 
otic  singing  was  kept  up  until  a  late  hour  at 
night.  The  most  astonishing  part  of  the  whole 
matter  is,  that  the  guards  did  not  tire  on  them 
as  they  have  done  heretofore;  no  effort  of  any 
kind  was  made  by  the  rebels  to  stop  the  hilarity. 
This  goes  far  towards  confirming  our  belief  that 
the  report  is  not  without  some  good  foundation. 
The  excitement  is  such  that  we  begin  to  think 


there  is  not  much  difference  between  intoxica 
tion  excited  by  wine,  and  that  produced  by  good 
news,  especially  when  it  brings  a  hope  of  release 
from  such  torture  as  we  have  been  enduring  in 
this  prison.  The  boys1  all  act  as  if  they  were 
really  drunk — handshaking,  greeting,  singing, 
and  some  actually  crying  for  joy.  There  have 
been  five  or  six  maniacs  here  who  lost  their  rea¬ 
son  from  hunger,  and  who  were  constantly 
shouting  for  “Bread!  Bread!”  but  now,  all 
seemed  to  have  gone  crazy  and  are  shouting, 
“Glory,  hallelujah!”  singing  “Home,  Sweet 
Home  ”  “We’ll  Rally  Round  the  Flag,  Boys,” 
eacli  group  having  a  good  time  of  its  own.  To 
our  delighted  astonishment,  the  prison  author¬ 
ities  allow  all  this  to  go  on  without  any  remon¬ 
strance  or  interference  whatever.  What  can  it 
all  mean? 

We  are  now  demonstrating  our  ingenuity  by 
representing  the  dead  men  as  still  in  the  land 
of  the  living  and  drawing  their  rations  as  when 
they  were  living  in  fact.  These  extra  rations 
we  divide  among  the  actual  living,  giving  us  a 
handsome  increase  in  our  rations.  This  has 
been  done  for  about  two  weeks,  unobserved  by 
the  prison  authorities,  and  now  it  is  done  at  a 
wholesale  rate,  which  causes  the  authorities  to 
congratulate  themselves  that  the  death-list  is 
diminishing.  Poor  fools,  they  are  woefully 

252 


deceived!  But  we  are  willing  that  they  should 
be  deceived  as  long  as  it  gives  us  more  food. 

January  31st.  I  was  up  all  night  with  Com¬ 
rade  Jud'son.  He  seems  to  be  much  better  this 
morning.  We  secured  some  medicine  from  the 
hospital  surgeon  in  the  shape  of  sumach  berries, 
to  be  boiled  like  tea  and  drank.  It  is  a  very 
simple  remedy,  but  we  hope  it  will  be  beneficial 
to  the  sick  man. 

The  one  employment  of  the  prisoners  now  is 
speculation  on  the  truthfulness  or  falsity  of 
exchange  rumors.  The  report  is  now  abroad 
that  the  sutler  brought  a  paper  into  the  prison 
and  showed  it  to  some  of  the  boys,  which  con¬ 
tained  an  editorial  to  the  effect  that  next  week 
we  would  be  taken  out  of  here.  If  This  report 
should  prove  to  be  false,  the  effect  upon  the 
prisoners  will  be  very  disastrous,  and  will  result 
in  an  increase  of  the  death  rate,  and,  I  fear  also, 
of  the  number  of  maniacs. 

There  are  no  farther  reports  from  the  hunting 
parties  who  have  been  after  the  fugitives.  No 
captives  have  been  brought  in  since  the  26th  of 
this  month.  It  does  seem  incredible  that  so 
many  could  escape  the  dogs  and  the  hot  pur¬ 
suit  of  their  enemies.  Perhaps  some  were  cap- 
turned  and  left  lying  where  they  were  taken. 
These  ghouls  are  capable  of  committing  any 
degree  of  atrocity  their  murderous  hearts  move 

253 


them  to  commit. 

Some  of  the  old  guards  are  in  charge  of  the 
water  squad  to-day.  I  was  one  of  the  detail  in 
the  afternoon,  but  the  officer  in  charge  would 
not  allow  any  trading  to  be  done,  and  so  I  had 
to  return  without  accomplishing  anything.  I 
have  been  out  of  tobacco  since  yesterday  morn¬ 
ing,  and  but  for  the  interference  of  the  officer,  I 
could  have  secured  a  plug  of  tobacco  while  out 
after  water.  The  squad  detailed  to  get  wood 
has  to  pass  so  near  headquarters  that  it  is 
impossible  to  do  any  trading  on  that  route;  even 
the  guards  are  watched  so  closely  that  we  can¬ 
not  do  any  trading  with  them. 


254 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


I  Succeed  in  Getting  Tobacco — A  High-Toned 
Patron — -Hopes  are  Rising — A  Sale,  and  an 
Encouraging  Interview — We  Adopt  a  John¬ 
nie — Planning  His  Escape — Prison  Prayer 
M  e  et  i  n  gs — R  el  i  gi  o  u  s  D  e  s  ti  t  utio  n — T  li  ought  s 
of  Exchange — Our  First  Issue  of  Clothing — 
Robbed  by  Major  Gee — Make  My  Last  Ring — - 
Visited  by  Major  Gee — His  Brutal  Character. 

February  1st.  Nothing  unusual  has  trans¬ 
pired  today.  Judson  is  better  this  morning,  the 
universal  excitement  over  the  exchange  is  help¬ 
ing  to  restore  his  health.  George  Edmonds,  of 
my  company,  went  out  with  the  water-squad 
today.  I  gave  him  a  ring  to  take  out  with  him 
and  trade  for  tobacco  if  an  opportunity  offered. 
He  was  successful,  and  now  we  are  the  happy 
possessors  of  a  treasure  beyond  price — a  plug  of 
tobacco.  What  joy  it  brings  to  all  our  hearts 
as  we* roll  the  sweet  morsel  under  our  tongues! 

February  2nd.  While  I  was  at  the  sutler’s 
tent  this  morning,  a  Lieutenant  of  the  young 
“tar-heel”  regiment  was  there  inquiring  of  the 

255 


sutler  if  lie  had  any  of  them  Yankee-made. finger 
rings  for  sale.  Being  answered  in  the  negative, 
I  told  him  I  would  make  him  one  tomorrow. 
After  a  few  preliminaries,  were  settled  I 
received  the  contract  to  make  a  ring  for  his  royal 
nibs.  What  an  important  contract  that  was,  my 
countrymen!  The  price  was  to  be  ten  dollars; 
the  ornaments  on  it  were  to  be  two  hearts. 
After  taking  the  size  of  his  finger,  I  went  to  my 
dugout  and  was  unkind  enough  to  allow  myself 
to  think  that  he  needed  more  bra  ns  than  hearts. 
Judging  from  his  appearance  and  conduct  he 
needed  both,  but  not  of  the  kind  my  poor  skill 
could  manufacture.  It  was  amusing  as  well  as 
disgusting  to  see  him  lay  down  a  $1000-bill  and 
ask  the  sutler  to  give  him  ,  small  bills  in 
exchange..  He  seemed  to  do  it  with  such  disdain 
and  with  as  little  concern  as  a  small  bov  would 
banter  another  to  trade  marbles. 

February  3rd.  Nothing  occurred  to  disturb 
the  quiet  and  peace  of  the  “stockade  family” 
yesterday.  The  usual  routine  of  prison  life  went 
on.  Judson  is  feeling  much  better.  Hopes  of 
exchange  are  rising,  as  rumors  are  numerous 
that  negotiations  are  going  on,  and  prisoners 
from  other  rebel  pens  are  constantly  leaving  for 
our  lines.  We  have  received  tidings  that  we  are 
to  leave  here  as  soon  as  transportation  can  be 
furnished. 


256 


I  finished  the  ring  today,  and  this  evening 
the  young  dandy  “tar-heel”  Lieutenant  met  me 
at  the  sutler’s  tent  after  roll-call,  according  to 
agreement.  He  paid  me  the  ten  dollars  like  a 
man.  I  made  bold  to  ask  him  if  he  would  give 
me  any  information  about  the  rumors  of 
exchange  now  being  circulated  among  the  pris¬ 
oners.  He  replied  that  the  rumor  was  correct 
and  true,  that  we  would  leave  here  as  soon  as 
transportation  could  be  furnished  us.  I 
remarked  that  these  rumors  had  been  quite  fro 
quently  circulated  in  the  prison,  but  had  always 
proved  to  be  false,  and  I  had  become  skeptical 
about  putting  my  faith  in  them,  because  when 
they  proved  to  be  untrue  the  disappointment 
was  a  great  shock  to  men  as  weak  mentally  and 
physically  as  we  were. 

“Well,  sir,”  he  said,  “this  one  is  true.  I  give 
you  my  honah  on  that.” 


This  gave  me  some  good  encouragement.  With 


the  ten  dollars  I  got  from  my  “tar-heel”  Lieuten¬ 


ant  I  purchased  three  small  sweet  potatoes  and 
about  one-half  of  a  ration  of  bread.  The  bread 
kept  by  the  sutler  for  sale  is  of  the  same  qual¬ 
ity  as  that  issued  to  us  for  rations.  His  stock- 
in-trade  is  bread,  potatoes,  onions,  black  pepper, 
boiled  beef,  rice  and  cow-peas,  all  of  which  lie 
sell  S'  for  an  enormous  price.  Owing  to  the 


257 


scarcity  of  money  lie  does  not  carry  on  a  very 
t  h  r  i  v  i  n  g  b  u  s  i  ness. 

February  4th.  Today  one  of  the  rebel  con¬ 
victs,  a  mere  stripling  of  a  boy,  came  to  our  dug- 
out  and  told  Connely  and  myself  that  lie  had 
been  conscripted  into  the  rebel  army,  had 
deserted  twice,  and  while  being  taken  the  sec¬ 
ond  time  lie  had  stabbed  a,  rebel  officer,  and  he 
was  here  a  waiting  trial.  He  wa  s  confident  the 
Union  prisoners  were  going  to  leave  very  soon, 
and  he  was  afraid  lie  would  be  handled  roughly 
after  we  left.  He  asked  ns  if  we  could  not  in 
some  way  aid  him  to  get  out  of  the  Confederacy. 
He  was  not  to  exceed  18  years  old,  and  was  an 
innocent-looking  youth.  He  was  blind  in  one 
eye.  We  put  all  confidence  in  liis  veracity  and 
honesty,  and  told  him  we  would  see  what  we 
could  do  for  him.  We  were  afraid  the  disfigure¬ 
ment  of  his  blind1  eve  would  make  it  hard  to 
effect  his  escape  without  being  detected,  and 
we  might  get  ourselves  into  trouble.  But  he 
pleaded  with  us  so  earnestly,  assuring  us  that  if 
he  was  detected  we  would  not  be  implicated,  we 
finally  told  him  we  would  consider  the  matter. 
It  was  arranged  that  he  should  come  back  the 
next  day  and  we  would  decide  wliat  we  would 
do  in  his  case.  After  he  left  us  we  decided  to  do 
what  we  could  to  help'  him  to  get  away,  and 
finally  hit  on  the  plan  of  naming  the  kid  “Jacob 


258 


Berry.”  This  was  the  name  of  a  member  of  our 
company  who  was  killed  on  the  railroad  while 
going  home  on  a  sick  furlough,  near  Joliet,  Illi¬ 
nois,  August,  1863. 

February  5th.  The  weather  is  quite  chilly 
this  morning,  but  the  excitement  runs  so  high 
we  forget  all  about  the  cold.  The  belief  is 
becoming  fixed!  in  our  minds  that  this  will  be 
the  last  Sabbath  Day  we  shall  spend  in  this  mis¬ 
erable  den.  Every  Sabbath  Day  prayer  meet¬ 
ings  have  been  held  in  different  parts  of  the 
stockade,  but  on  this  Sabbath  all  praying  people 
have  assembled  near  the  west  end  of  the 
grounds.  The  meeting  was  largely  attended,  and 
great  interest  was  manifested.  Many  prayers 
from  true  contrite  hearts  went,  up  to  God  in 
faith,  believing  that  He  would  hear  and  answer 
ns.  During  this  prayer  meeting  the  young  “tar- 
heels”  near  the  assemblage  ceased  to  walk  their 
beats  and  became  interested  hearers.  Since 
we  entered  this  stockade  there  has  not  been  a 
single  minister  of  any  sect  to  visit  us,  except  the 
Catholic  priest.  It  appears  that  we  are  not  even 
counted  worthy  to  have  the  comforts  and  help 
of  -Religion  extended  to  us. 

February  6th.  Our  Johnnie  came  around 
this  morning  to  see  what  we  had  concluded  to 
do  in  his  case.  We  told  him  we  had  decided  to 


aid  him  all  we  could,  but  he  must  be  very  cau¬ 
tious,  and  if  he  was  detected  by  the  rebel 
authorities  he  was  not  to  let  them  know  that  we 
were  aiding  him.  We  told  him  to  trade  his  cap 
for  a  broad  brimmed  hat,  which  would  help  to 
disguise  him  as  well  as  to  hide  his  blind  eye.  We 
also  told  him  he  must  adopt  the  name  of  “Jacob 
Berry,  Co.  ‘1/  22nd  Iowa  Infantry,”  and  be 
paroled  under  that  name.  We  wrote  it  down  on 
a  piece  of  paper  and  gave  it  to  him,  so  he  would 
become  familiar  with  it,  and  when  he  was 
around  us  we  would  call  him  by  that  name.  We 
also  told  him  where  we  were  from,  where  we 
enlisted,  who  was  our  Captain,  all  in  order  that 
he  might  be  somewhat  familiar  with  our  history 
in  case  he  was  questioned.  We  cautioned  him 
not  to  be  seen  in  our  company  to  frequently, 
for  fear  his  associates  might  suspicion  him. 
When  the  time  came  (if  it  ever  did)  when  we 
should  go  out,  he  was  to  fall  into  ranks  near  us, 
and  if  questioned  as  to  where  he  belonged,  to 
answer  that  he  belonged  to  the  22nd  Iowa 
Infantry.  In  this  way  our  plans  were  laid  to 
help  a  brother  man  to  gain  his  freedom  and 
escape  the  cruelties  of  his  own  kindred. 

February  7th.  The  night  has  gradually  worn 
away.  Our  expectation  of  what  is  to  take  place 
during  the  next  few  days  makes  the  nights  Jong 
and  wearisome.  It  is  natural  for  men  to  hope, 


260 


especially  when  situated  so  unfortunately  as  we 
are.  Comrade  Jud-son  is  slowly  improving,  and 
under  favorable  conditions  he  may  recover 
sufficiently  to  reach  our  lines,  but  if  this  rumor 
should  turn  out  like  the  others  the  disappoint¬ 
ment  will  no  doubt  hasten  him  to  the  grave.  1 1 
is  difficult  to  control  our  thought.  Fancy  runs 
wiki  and1  dwells  upon  scenes  of  pleasure  and 
comfort  from  which  we  are  now  excluded.  When 
the  strong  spirit  returns  from  its  wanderings 
weak  and  weary,  liow  natural  it  is  for  the  bodv 
to  sympathize  with  it.  Such  are  the  wearying 
struggles  we  engage  in  until  we  sink  into  a 
kind  of  despondency,  which  scarcely  cares 
whether  we  live  or  die. 

February  8th.  Rations  of  bread  were  issued 
to  us  earlier  than  usual  this  morning.  The 
Sergeants  of  the  different  squads  were  ordered 
to  report  at  the  north  gate,  where  they  were 
informed  that  the  Federal  Government  had  sent 
us  some  clothing  and  for  them  to  take  charge  of 
it  and  issue  it  out  to  the  men.  On  November 
10th  muster  roll  for  Rations  was  12,500;  our 
number  last  night  at  roll  call  was  6,050.  Each 
squad  was  counted  and  clothing  issued  to 
squads  according  to  number.  It  was  then  issued 
to  the  men  of  each  squad!  ns  far  it  would  go. 
Those  most  needy  were  first  supplied — there 
being  one  blanket  for  every  three  men.  Seven 


261 


pairs  of  pants  and  twelve  overcoats  were  issued 
to  our  squad,  which  numbered  sixty-nine  men. 
There  were  no  shirts,  drawers,  blouses  or 
socks  allotted  to  us.  Our  allowance  of  shoes 
consisted  of  three  pairs.  I  was  barefooted,  my 
feet  being  wrapped  in  a  pair  of  old  pants  legs, 
but  it  seems  that  others  needed  shoes  worse 
than  I  did,  so  I  got,  none.  I  was  thankful  we 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  procure  a  blanket  for 
Oonnely,  Crocker  and  myself.  This  we  gave  to 
our  sick  comrade,  Judson,  which  he  needed  so 
much. 

It  now  penetrated  ray  cranium  where  all 
those  new  clothes  our  barbarous,  murdering 
guards  were  wearing  came  from.  All  through 
this  long  and  severe  winter,  while  we  have  been 
nearly  naked  and  suffering  untold  agony  from 
cold  and  exposure,  these  scoundrels  have  been 
wrapped  in  our  blankets,  Shod  with  our  new 
shoes,  and  comfortable  in  new  Union  clothing, 
all  of  which  our  government  sent  here  for  our 
use,  having  shipped  an  abundance  of  clothing 
here  early  in  the  winter,  expecting  that  the 
rebel  authorities  would  be  honorable  enough  to 
give  the  articles  to.  us,  but  which  they  did  not. 
Instead  of  that,  they  put  them  on  their  own 
troops,  who  were  shooting  our  poor  fellows  to 
their  death,  in  cold  blood,  and  heaping  all  man¬ 
ner  of  indignities  on  us.  There  is  not  a  shadow 


262 


of  a  doubt  but  that  the  rebel  authorities  prom¬ 
ised  our  government  at  Washington  they  would 
give  the  prisoners  whatever  was  sent  to  make 
them  more  comfortable.  But  they  lied  and  stole 
from  the  men  they  were  killing  and  mutilating 
with  blood  hounds.  Can  my  readers  imagine 
anything  more  barbarous  than  this?  Savage 
Indians  are  possessed  of  more  honor  and  mercy. 

February  9th.  Comrade  Judson  continues  to 
improve.  He  was  able  to  sit  up  awhile  today. 
We  feel  very  anxious  to  have  him  recover 
strength  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  move  with 
us  when  the  time  for  exchange  comes.  We  are 
all  certain  that  under  skillful  medical  treat¬ 
ment  and  nursing  lie  will  be  restored  to  health. 
Today  I  exhausted  my  stock  of  rubber.  I  shall 
keep  this  ring  and  take  it  home  with  me  as  a 
present  for  my  wife  and  as  an  evidence  of  my 
skill  and  industry  while  an  inmate  of  Salisbury 
Prison.  I  suppose  my  wife  lias  long  ago  given 
me  up  as  dead,  but  if  I  had  just  one  month’s  diet 
of  our  oldj-fashioned  hard  tack  and  “sow 
bosom,”  with  a  generous  supply  of  Uncle  Sam’s 
good!  coffee  thrown  in,  I  believe  I  could  make 
these  “tar-heels”  believe  I  was  the  liveliest 
corpse  they  ever  handled.  It  would  be  so  sweet 
to  take  revenge  on  them  for  wearing  the  cloth¬ 
ing  they  so  maliciously  stole  from  us  during 
the  winter.  I  often  imagined  I  had  met  with 


263 


grievances  which  made  me  mad — real  mad — but 
never  before  in  all  my  life  barve  I  felt  towards 
any  human  being  as  I  do  towards  these  “tar- 
heels”  from  South  Carolina,  as  I  am  compelled 
to  watch  them  day  after  day  wearing  the  cloth¬ 
ing  which  ought  to  be  covering  our  poor,  naked, 
shivering  bodies.  It  is  more  than  human  nature 
can  bear.  But  this  only  indicates  what  south¬ 
ern  rebels  are  at  heart. 

February  lOtli.  Many  anxious  inquiries  were 
made  today  as  to  the  probable  time  when  we  are 
to  be  relieved  of  this  great  mental  strain  con¬ 
cerning  our  exchange,  but  no  definite  or  satis¬ 
factory  answers  were  elicited.  Major  Gee 
entered  the  prison  today,  accompanied  by  three 
of  his  under-strappers,  and  held  a  short  con¬ 
versation  with  the  sutler.  Then  lie  walked 
around  the  stockade  as  if  lie  were  looking  for 
some  one  he  had  lost,  and  finally  made  his  exit 
at  the  little  gate.  No  one  could  muster  up  cour¬ 
age  enough  to  ask  him  for  information  con¬ 
cerning  our  release.  The  very  sight  of  the  man 
is  repulsive.  It  is  easy  to  read  the  true  char¬ 
acter  of  the  brute  by  the  cast  of  his  counte- 
nance.  The  very  features  of  the  man’s  face  por¬ 
trays  Ms  inward  depravity.  To  one  who  com¬ 
prehends  the  capabilities  of  the  human  soul, 
there  is  something  terrible  in  its  perversions. 
The  higher  and  nobler  the  purpose  to  which 


264 


the  life  is  devoted,  the  darker  and  deeper  the 
infamy  into  which  the  soul  may  be  plunged 
when  it  is  sold  into  sin,  and  is  dominated  by 
viciousness.  Demons  grow  from  germs  that 
might  have  brought  forth  angels.  Such  is  the 
character  of  Major  Gee.  It  seems  as  though  he 
is  dead  to  all  the  better  feelings  of  humanity. 
He  is  prepared  to  commit  any  crime  against 
God  and  man,  or  both.  The  evil  passion  of  his 
depraved  nature  is  so  strong  and  active  that 
he  is  ready  to  use  every  means  within  his  power 
to  increase  and  intensify  the  sufferings  of  his 
helpless  victims. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Friendship  Gifts' — Hope  and  Fear — An  Inquiry 
and  its  Result — Hope  Brightened — A 

Preacher  and  His  Sermon — An  Unapprecia¬ 
tive  Congregation — Great  Anxiety — Trying  to 
Make  a  Maniac  Understand — Rain  and  Mud — 
Bad  Tempered  Men — Excitement,  Hope  and 
Fear — A  Trade  and  Ring  Making — Seeking 

for  News — Auringeris  Death — How  News 
Spreads — Terrible  Condition  of  the  Hospital 
— Death  Rate  Decreasing — Wood  Choppers 
Discharged  —  Rations  Diminishing  —  Our 
Johnnie  Scared — Sergeants  to  Report  Their 
Men — Our  Day  of  Deliverance  Arrives — 
Exciting  Scenes — Our  Johnnie  Happy — The 
Dead  List. 

February  11th.  About  dusk  last  night  L.  K. 
Auringer,  of  the  81st  New  York,  came  to  me  and 
gave  me  a  pressing  invitation  to  make  one  of 
the  party  as*  lie  had  means  of  escape  to-night.  I 
courteously  declined  his  kind  invitation,  not 
wishing  to  run  the  desperate  and  almost  hope¬ 
less  chance  of  escaping  the  ever-watchful 

266 


guards.  Then  I  knew  1  would  have  to  battle 
against  the  ferocious  blood  hounds'  which  would 
certainly  be  put  on  our  track  as  soon  As  our 
absence  was  discovered.  Much  as  I  desired  to 
taste  the  sweets  of  liberty,  and  grateful  as  I  felt 
to  the  kind  comrade  who,  out  of  the  goodness  of 
his  heart,  was  willing  to  give  me  the  oppor¬ 
tunity  of  realizing  my  earnest  desires,  yet,  situ¬ 
ated  as  I  was,  barefoot,  almost  naked,  worn  and 
wasted  with  long  and  severe  suffering,  I  knew 
I  would  not  be  able  to  make  my  way  through  an 
unknown  country  abounding  in  bitter  enemies. 
All  these  considerations,  to  which  was  added 
the  dread  of  being  devoured  by  blood  hounds,  as 
some  of  our  poor  fellows  in  their  efforts  to 
escape  had  been,  made  the  probability  of  final 
escape  so  small  that  1  had  to  decline  the  privi¬ 
lege  offered  to  me.  I  wished  him  God-speed, 
and  hoped  he  would  be  greatly  successful.  Com¬ 
rade  Auringer,  as  1  have  already  stated,  was  a 
skilful  worker  in  bone,  making  bone  Bibles, 
rings  and  other  trinkets.  As  he  turned  to  go, 
he  handed  me  a  beautiful  little  bone  Bible,  and 
said  to  me: 

“Comrade,  take  this  home,  and  when  you  look 
upon  it,  remember  me.” 

In  return  for  his-  beautiful  gift,  I  gave  him 
one  of  my  finger  rings,  made  of  rubber,  and  said 
to  him: 


267 


“Comrade  Auringer,  our  friendship  since  our 
acquaintance  was  formed  here,  has  been 
mutual.  I  will  always  remember  you.  Take 
this  ring,  and  if  you  live  to  get  home,  put  it 
where  you  will  often  see  it,  and  when  your  eyes 
behold  it,  remember  me  then.” 

Discouragement  is  beginning  to  invade  the 
prison;  many  are  beginning  to  think  there  is  no 
foundation  for  the  report  of  our  exchange  and 
release,  therefore,  we  are  again  doomed  to  be 
disappointed.  Our  adopted  Johnnie  came  to  us 
this  morning  and  told  us  he  had  heard  all  the 
Federal  prisoners  had  left  Andersonville  on 
exchange,  and  that  we  would  soon  be  released 
from  this  prison.  However,  we  surmise  that 
the  advance  of  Sherman’s  army  has  had  a  great 
deal  to  do  with  the  removal  of  the  prisoners  from 
Andersonville.  We  have  not  had  any  informa¬ 
tion  concerning  his  movements,  as  no  “fresh 
fish”  (the  name  given  to  new  prisoners!),  have 
been  brought  here  since  the  colored  prisoners 
came  in  early  in  the  winter.  We  want  it  dis¬ 
tinctly  understood  that  Salisbury  Prison  is  open 
only  to  distinguished  and  selected  company, 
viz.,  colored  troops  and  “barn  burners  from  the 
Shenandoah  Valley.”  I  determined  to  make  a 
desperate  effort  to  learn  something  of  our  pros¬ 
pective  destiny,  so  I  went  to  the  hospital,  took 
my  station  at  the  door,  and  waited  until  the 

268 


rebel  surgeon  came  out.  When  he  appeared,  1 
mustered  up  courage  enough  to  ask  him  if  he 
would  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  if  he  knew 
when  we  would  be  paroled.  He  answered  me 
that  he  did  not  know  just  when  it  would  be  done 
but  that  we  would  be  released  as  soon  as  trans¬ 
portation  could  be  had.  I  replied  that  if  they 
would  grant  us  the  privilege,  we  would  will¬ 
ingly  march  and  live  on  the  wind.  All  we 
craved  was  the  privilege  of  getting  out  of  this 
place.  Here  our  conversation  ended.  That 
there  is  some  prospect  of  our  going  out  is  cer¬ 
tain,  but  when  the  day  will  come  is  all  too 
uncertain  for  comfort. 

The  memory  of  last  night’s  parting  with  Com¬ 
rade  Auringer  still  lingers  with  me.  I  feel  lone¬ 
some  since  he  is  gone.  Our  acquaintance  began 
in  this  vile  prison  and  we  soon  became  warm 
friends.  We  had  aided  each  other  in  many 
ways,  but  now  he  is  gone  and  I  am  left.  I  laid 
awake  all  night  expecting  every  moment  to  hear 
the  rattle  of  musketry  and  the  shrieks  of 
wounded  men.  The  night  was  very  still.  I 
could  distinctly1  hear  the  steady  tramp,  tramp  of 
the  rebel  guards  as  they  walked  their  beats',  eag¬ 
erly  wishing  for  an  opportunity  to  distinguish 
themselves  by  shooting  a  Yank.  I  could  hear 
them  cry  out  in  genuine  southern  dialect: 


269 


“Post  number  f-o-a-li;  f-o-a-h  o’clock,  and  all  is 
well !” 

This1  was  taken  up  by  post  number  five,  and 
so  on  all  around  tlie  stockade.  This  was 
repeated  by  the  guards  every  half  hour  in  order 
to  let  the  prison  authorities  know  they  were  on 
the  alert. 

February  12th.  Juclson  is  much  better  this 
morning. .  Exchange  stock  is  at  a  high  rate  of 
premium  again.  The  rate  was  raised  by  a  min¬ 
ister  of  the  Gospel  who  came  in  this  Sabbath 
day  to  preach  to  us  “barn-burners,”  We  have 
been  in  this  prison  over  four  months  and  not 
until  to-dav  lias  a  single  minister  come  to  us  to 
preach  the  Word  of  Eternal  Life  to  give  us  com¬ 
fort  and  strength.  I  did  not  hear  the  text  from 
which  this  one  preached.  His  harangue  was 
simply  an  apology  for  our  captors.  He  excused 
their  barbarous  treatment  of  us  on  the  ground 
that  the  Confederacy  was  not  in  a  condition 
financial lty  to  provide  us  with  better  quarters 
and  food.  “But  now,”  said  he,  “before  another 
week  rolls  around  you  will  be  within  your  own 
lines,  or,  at  least,  on  the  road  there.”  -  He  hoped 
we  would  carry  no  animosity  with  us,  “for,  my 
friends,”  said  he,  “we  have  not  had  the  means 
to  supply  your  wants  as  we  should  have  done, 
if  we  were  able.”  The  impudent  hypocricy  of 


270 


this  fellow  who  disgraces  the  sacred  office  of  the 
ministry  by  calling  ns  “friend's/-  and  apologiz¬ 
ing  for  the  barbarous  treatment  we  have 
received  from  our  enemies,  aroused  within  me 
a  feeling  of  intense  indignation.  If  we  were 
friends,  where  had  he  been  that  he  had  not  come 
to  preach  to  our  needy  souls  the  Word  of  Eter¬ 
nal  Life  which  we  needed  so  much?  I  seri¬ 
ously  disturbed  his  peaceful  soul  by  ashing  him 
where  the  clothing  was  that  Uncle  Sam  had 
sent  to  us?  That,  certainly,  has  been  “availa¬ 
ble”  to  the  Confederacy  from  the  way  the 
guards  were  dressed.  Some  one  in  the  rear  of 
the  audience  yelled  at  him  that  “The  animosity 
of  both  rebels  and  the  graybacks  would  be  apt 
to  stick  to  the  Yankees!” 

His  sermon  failed  to  have  its  desired  effect, 
and  when  he  discovered  that  fact,  he  brought  it 
to  a  speedy  close  by  bidding  us  all  a  very  Chris¬ 
tian  (?)  and  affectionate  farewell.  However, 
his  sermon  had  one  good  effect — it  confirmed  our 
hopes  of  exchange  and  release,  not  because  he 
was  a  so-called  minister,  but  because  we 
believed  lie  would  not  have  made  us  this  visit, 
and  said  what  he  did  unless  the  day  of  our 
departure  was  near  at  hand.  Every  man  who 
can  walk  is  on  the  move,  so  that  the  inside  of 
the  stockade  has  the1  appearance  of  a  bee-hive, 
notwithstanding  a  heavy  snow  is  falling. 

271 


February  13th.  The  terrible  anxiety  we  are 
enduring  is  a  very  great  strain  on  the  nervous 
system  of  men  whose  vitality  is  already  greatly 
reduced  by  long  starvation,  sickness  and  suffer¬ 
ing.  Anxious  eyes  are  momentarily  looking  for 
the  gates  to  be  opened  to  admit  the  messengers 
who  are  to  bear  to  us  the  glad  tidings  that  the 
obstacles  which  have  so  long  stood  between  us 
and  liberty  are  at  last  removed.  How  eager  we 
are  to  hear  the  welcome  message  that  will  give 
ease  to  aching  hearts  and  food  to  empty  stom¬ 
achs!  The  suspense  is  terrible. 

Only  two  of  the  maniacs  are  now  living.  This 
morning  a  comrade  was  trying  to  make  one  of 
them  understand  that  we  were  going  to  leave 
here  soon,  and  then  we  would  go  to  where  there 
was  plenty  of  bread.  But  the  effort  was  a  fail¬ 
ure.  No  change  of  mental  condition  was  visi¬ 
ble  in  his  countenance.  The  cry  of  the  poor  fel¬ 
low  was:  “Bread!  Bread !”  His  eyes  had  a 
wild,  staring  gaze.  His  countenance  was  a  true 
index  to  his  mental  and  physical  agony. 

Bread  was  issued  to  us  to-day.  For  some  rea¬ 
son  there  is  more  activity  on  the  railroad  than 
usual;  trains  are  coming  and  going  more  fre¬ 
quently.  They  seem  to  be  heavy  freight  trains, 
but  the  nature  of  them  we  cannot  tell. 

February  14th.  The  weather  has  become 
quite  mild.  A  hard  rain  fell  dtiring  the  night, 

272 


but  the  morning  is  clear  and  bright,  making  it 
quite  pleasant  overhead,  but  very  muddy  and 
disagreeable  under  foot.  Notwithstanding  the 
mud,  every  man  who  can  be  on  his  feet  and  able 
to  walk,  is  on  the  move  from  place  to  place, 
hoping  to  hear  some  bit  of  news  that  will  con¬ 
firm  the  hopes  we  have  been  cherishing  for  so 
many  days.  One  thing  is  quite  noticeable 
among  the  prisoners,  viz.:  the  estrangement 
which  seems  to  prevail  between  the  eastern  and 
wejtern  soldiers.  There  is  not  much  social  life 
between  them.  The  New  Yorkers  occupy  the 
extreme  east  end  of  the  prison  ground,  and  are 
almost  constantly  fighting  among  themselves. 
It  is  nothing  unusual  to  see  a  fight  in  that  quar¬ 
ter  every  hour  in  the  day,  and  they  often  take 
place  between  those  who  are  the  best  of  friends. 
The  fact  is,  every  one  feels  so  ill-natured  that  it 
does  not  take  much  to  get  a  fight  started  on 
short  notice.  To  say  they  all  are  cross  is  to 
use  a  mild  expression. 

February  15th.  Judson  can  now  sit  up  a  part 
of  each  day.  Crocker  cannot  walk  very  much, 
his  feet  are  so  tender.  The  rest  of  our  squad 

are  in  reasonable  health.  The  chief  topics  of 

»■  '  * 

conversation  this  morning  are,  the  evacuation 
of  this  place  and — bread.  The  rebel  preacher 
said  last  Sundav  we  would  be  within  our  own 

4/ 

lines,  or  on  the  road,  before  the  next  Sabbath 

27  3 


day  would  dawn,  but  if  either  be  true  a  move 
will  have  to  be  made  very  soon.  Excitement 
runs  high,  mingled  with  grave  doubts  and  fears, 
but  the  uneasiness  which  seems  to  prevail 
among  the  guards,  and  the  moving  of  s<o  many 
trains,  means  something.  The  anxietv  can  be 
easily  discovered  in  the  face  of  every  rebel  we 
see,  but  the  cause  we  cannot  tell  as  they  will  not 
divulge  it  to  us. 

February  16th.  This  morning  I  made 
another  trade.  I  traded  two  brass  buttons  for 
the  bach  of  a  rubber  comb,  and  spent  the  daty 
making  another  finger  ring.  There  is  so  much 
excitement  that  it  is  difficult  to  do  any  kind  of 
work.  One  wants  to  sit  still  and  see  the  excited 
groups  of  men  going  from  one  part  of  the  pen 
to  another,  seeking  to  learn  the  latest  reports. 

A  man  may  start  a  favorable  report  and  in  a 
half  hour’s  time  go  to  another  part  of  the  prison, 
when  he  will  be  sure  to  hear  the  same  report 
told  with  such  emphasis  and  candor  that  he  con¬ 
cludes  it  came  direct  from  good  authority.  Thus 
hope  is  kept  alive  in  the  hearts  of  men  who 
would  otherwise  sink  under  the  load  of  despair. 

February  17tli.  This  morning  I  took  a  stroll 
over  to  the  east  side  to1  see  the  boys'  of  my  regi¬ 
ment  who  are  stationed  there.  The  same  state 
of  excitement  is  manifest  there  that  prevails  in 
other  parts  of  the  prison.  A  report  started  at 

274 


the  east  side  will  speedily  sweep  westward, 
gathering  many  additions  as  it  moves  along.  It 
is  not  like  the  traditional  “rolling  stone”  which 
is  said  to  gather  no  moss,  because  a  very  slight 
camp  rumor  concerning  our  exchange  gathers 
great  crowds  of  eager  listeners  who  attend  to 
all  that  is  rehersed  and  then  carry  their  own 
versions  of  it  to  others  just  as  eager  to  hear. 

I  walked  through  the  brick  hospital  on  1113' 
return,  and  the  sights  which  are  presented  to 
the  eye  are  appalling.  It  is  not  so  cold  inside 
the  building  as  it  has  been,  and  the  vast  hordes 
of  vermin  are  literally  eating  up  the  poor,  help¬ 
less  victims  who  are  confined  there.  The  ver¬ 
min  are  so  numerous  that  the  dust  and  straw 
on  the  dirt  floors  seem  as  though  they  were  lit¬ 
erally  alive,  while  the  fragments,  of  clothing 
Which  partially  cover  the  poor,  emaciated  bodies 
of  the  sick  men  are  so  covered  with  them  that  it 
is  impossible  to  tell  the  color  of  the  garment.  If 
one  stands  still  in  one  place,  for  even  a  few 
moments,  they  will  crawl  up  his  legs  like  ants 
from  an  ant  hill. 

February  18th.  This  is  the  last  day  of  the 
week  and  the  prediction,  or  promise,  of  our 
preacher  has  failed  to  materialize,  because  we 
are  neither  in  “God’s  country,”  nor  on  the  way 
there.  One  thing  is  sure,  the  close  of  each  day 
brings  us  nearer  the  time  when  we  will  go  out 

275 


1 


from  lieie,  but  the  question  is,  how  will  we  go 
out?  The  manner  of  our  going  is  what  we  are 
the  most  deeply  concerned  about  at  present.  To 
march  out  to  liberty  would  be  much  more  pre¬ 
ferable  than  to  go  out  by  way  of  the  dead- 
house;  and  yet,  how  many  poor  fellows  must,  go 
by  the  latter  route  before  the  blessing  of  the 
former  is  made  available  to  them! 


Owing  to  the  favorable  weather  the  death 
rate  is  becoming  somewhat  smaller,  but  the 
prison  authorities  are  not  entitled  to  any  credit 
for  it.  They  have  made  no  exertion  towards 
diminishing  the  death  rate.  I  am  quite  sure  if 
it  was  within  their  power,  they  would  increase 
rather  than  decrease  it.  I  visited  the  citizen 
prisoners  to-day  and  find  their  numbers  are 
diminishing  at  about  the  same  ratio  as  the  other 
prisoners, 

i  -  ; 

This  evening  as  the  wood  choppers  came  to 
the  gate  they  were  halted  and  the  officer  of  the 
guard  informed  them  that  their  services  as 
wood  choppers'  would  be  no  longer  needed.  He 
requested  each  man  to  hand  him  his  parole  by 
which  he  was  allowed  to  pass  out  of  the  stock¬ 
ade  to  cut  and  bring  in  wood.  Two  days  supply 
of  wood  is  generally  kept  on  hand,  and  as  these 
wood-men  are  now  discharged  it  certainly  means 
that  the  time  of  our  departure  is  not  far  distant. 


276 


February  19tli.  When  we  are  to  leave  here 
and  where-  we  shall  go  is  the  theme  of  conversa 
tion  all  over  the  prison  grounds.  A  report  has 
been  started  that  an  army  is  marching  towards 
this  place,  and  we  are  to  be  'shipped  farther 
south.  This  is  not  generally  believed,  and  would 
be  a  disastrous  thing  if  it  should  prove  to  be 
true.  The  report  has  been  brought  in  by  the 
water  squad  that  we  are  to  be  taken  to  Wil¬ 
mington,  N.  C.,  and  there  exchanged.  One 
thing  is  certain,  we  .are  going  to  leave  this  place 
but  when  we  are  going  time  alone  can  tell. 

The  rebel  preacher  did  not  put  in  his  appear¬ 
ance  to-day.  I  suppose  he  discovered  from  the 
treatment  he  received  last  Sunday  that  his  visit 
was  not  very  acceptable.  As  a  consequence  we 
got  no  rebel  -sermon  to-day,  and  I  fear  we  have 
lost  the  friendship  of  one  minister  of  the  Gospel 
— such  as  he  is. 

February  20th.  Our  rations  came  to  us  this 
morning  in  quantity,  the  loaf  being  much  smal¬ 
ler  than  usual.  Our  adopted  Johnnie  came  over 
to  our  dugout  to-day  in  a  state  of  great  excite¬ 
ment,  He  said  a  rebel  officer  was  in  the  “devil's 
den”  last  evening  counting  the  convicts,  and  he 
is  afraid  the  convicts  will  be  taken  out  before 
the  soldier  prisoners  go,  and  if  they  do,  they 
will  get,  him  sure.  He1  said  one  of  the  guards 

277 


informed  him  we  were  to  leave  to-day  or  to-mor¬ 
row.  Trains-  are  coming  and  going,  and  on  the 
arrival  of  each  train,  the  boys  are  ready  to  bet 
that  is  onr  train.  The  suspense  we  are  endur¬ 
ing  is  painful;  hope  has  been  the  only  staff  on 
which  we  have  leaned,  and  by  it  men  who  are 
walking  skeletons  have  been  kept  up  and  saved 
from  breaking  down  and  dying;  while  others 
have  become  despondent  and,  according  to  the 
vernacular  of  the  prison,  have  made  “fat 
corpses.” 

This  evening  I  made  a  visit  to  market  Square 
to  hear  the  latest  reports  and  imagine  my  sur¬ 
prise  when  I  saw  Gilman,  A  u  ringer ’si  brother- 
in-law,  who  made  his  escape  on  the  night  of  the 
10th  with  him  and  others.  He  informed  me 
that  they  were  tracked  in  the  snow  on  the  Sun- 
day  night,  the  12tli,  and  he  was  recaptured.  The 
others  ran  in  different  directions  and  in  the 
chase  one  man  was  killed  and  lie  believed  it  to 
be  Auringer. 

Thus  another  noble  spirit  was  ushered  into 
the  presence  of  his  Maker,  sent  thither  by  the 
brutal  hand  of  a  murderer.  How  long,  oh  God, 
how  long  will  such  fearful  atrocities  be  allowed? 

The  tidings  of  An  ringer’s  death  was  sad  news 
to  me.  I  was  fortunate  in  forming  a  very  close 
and  happy  acquaintance  with  this  comrade  in 
the  early  part  of  onr  imprisonment.  He  was  a 

278 


whole-soled,  genial  fellow,  of  a  happy  disposi¬ 
tion,  always  looking  on  the  bright  side  of  things  ; 
seldom  despondent  himself,  lie  always  had  a 
word  of  cheer  for  liis  associates.  When  we 
bade  each  other  farewell  on  the  night  of  the 
10th  inst.,  he  had  great  hope  of  reaching  our 
lines.  We  spent  an  hour  together  that  evening 
building  “castles  in  the  air.”  When  we  parted 
he  promised  me  if  lie  succeeded  in  reaching  our 
lines,  he  would  write  immediately  to  my  wife, 
and  added  in  a  jocular  way: 

‘Til  be  making  love  to  her  before  you  get 
home.” 

To  which  I  replied: 

“All  right.” 

And  then  in  the  darkness  we  parted — lie  to 
escape,  only  to  die  a  horrible  death — I  to  live  a 
little  longer,  and  still  suffer  what  is  worse  than 
death.  The  bone  Bible  which  he  presented  to 
me.  when  he  left,  I  carefully  preserved  through 
the  remainder  of  my  imprisonment,  and  on  my 
return  home  gave  it  to  my  wife.  While  I  am 
copying  these  lines  from  the  original  bits  of 
paper  on  which  they  were  written  while  I  was 
in  prison  (thirty  years  after  the1  tragic  incident 
fdok  place),  it  lies  on  the  desk  before  me,  and  is 
one  of  the  most  dearly-prized  treasures'  of  our 
household.  The  ring  I  gave  poor  A u ringer 

279 


never  reached  its  destination.  I  am  convinced 
that  it  became  the  property  of  some  heartless, 
murderous  rebel. 

February  21st.  Rations  were  issued  to  us 

earlier  than  usual.  The  commanders  of  squads 
« 

were  ordered  to  report  to  the  officers  at  the 

/ 

gate  promptly  at  12  o’clock  noon.  When  they 
had  reported  they  were  ordered  to  make  a 
report  of  the  number  in  each  squad  who  were 
not  able  to  march,  in  order  that  transportation 
might  be  furnished  for  them,  but  all  who  were 
able  must  march  to  Greensboro,  a  distance  of 
about  sixty  miles,  from  which  place  transporta¬ 
tion  will  be  furnished  us  to  our  lines.  Our  depart¬ 
ure  is  to  take  place  to-morrow.  When  the  Ser¬ 
geants  came  in  and  announced  the  welcome 
news,  the  commotion  began.  Such  shouting 
and  singing!  No  tongue  nor  pen  can  describe 
the  joy  and  happiness  this  welcome  message 
brought  to  the  prisoners.  Handshaking  was 
the  order  of  the  hour,  reminding  one  of  an  old- 
fashioned  Methodist  love-feast.  Crocker’s  feet 
were  too  sore  to  permit  him  to  walk,  and  Judson 
was  too  weak,  so  they  were  both  put  on  the  list 
for  transportation.  The  rest  of  our  little  dug- 
out  family  were  willing  to  undertake  the  over¬ 
land  route.  Our  Johnnie  was  as  happy  as  the 
rest  of  us,  and  kept  clear  of  any  rebel  officer  who 
chanced  to  pass  through  the  stockade. 

280 


After  receiving  the  joyful  news  of  our  release 
to-morrow,  Connely  and  I  went  to  the  dead- 
house  and  copied  from  the  register  a  list  of  the 
dead  from  October  6th,  1864,  to  February  21st, 
1865,  at  noon.  The  number  of  deaths  for  the 
138  days  aggregates  3,800. 

In  the  month  of  April  following  our  release, 
when  General  Stoneman  captured  the  town  and 
prison,  the  rebels  burned  the  books  to  prevent 
them  from  falling  into  the  possession  of  our 
Government,  and  their  terrible  crime  be  discov¬ 
ered.  The1  following  is  the  only  record  now  in 
existence,  so  far  as  I  know,  and  that  covers  only 
the  short  space  of  138  days,  and  inside  the  prison 
only.  There  has  been  a  large  number  taken  to 
the  hospitals  outside  the  stockade  from  time  to 
time  and  the  number  of  deaths  there  we  have  no 
means  of  obtaining,  but  from  the  best  informa¬ 
tion  we  have  the  death  list  there  will  add  to  the 
following  number  five  hundred  more,  making  a 
total  of  four  thousand  and  three  hundred. 

In  the  hospitals  there  are  several  hundred  who 
are  so  emaciated  by  long  starvation  and  suffer¬ 
ing  that  are  too  weak  to  be  moved,  and  unless 
speedy  relief  comes  to  their  aid  they,  too,  must 
soon  follow  their  dead  comrades'  who  sleep  in 
the  unknown  graves  of  Salisbury  Prison,  vic¬ 
tims  of  a  barbarous  foe. 

281 


V 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15 

10 

17 

18 

19 

20 

21 

22 

23 

24 

25 

20 

27 

28 

29 

30 

31 


November 

December 

January 

February 

Date 

Deaths 

Date 

Deaths 

Date 

Deaths 

Date 

Deaths 

1 

19 

1 

58 

1 

40 

1 

23 

2 

28 

2 

48 

2 

40 

2 

20 

3 

34 

3 

37 

3 

33 

3 

25 

4 

23 

4 

29 

4 

34 

4 

43 

5 

34 

5 

40 

5 

34 

5 

14 

0 

19 

0 

29 

0 

28 

0 

24 

7 

22 

7 

37 

7 

39 

7 

20 

8 

17 

8 

34 

8 

20 

8 

29 

9 

20 

9 

28 

9 

34 

9 

17 

10 

19 

10 

30 

10 

10 

10 

20 

11 

23 

11 

48 

11 

22 

11 

23 

12 

32 

12 

34 

12 

40 

12 

24 

13 

37 

13 

35 

13 

23 

13 

18 

14 

19 

14 

34 

14  > 

39 

14 

24 

15 

29 

15 

40 

15 

31 

15 

24 

10 

19 

10 

29 

10 

34 

10 

20 

17 

23 

17 

34 

17 

20 

17 

19 

18 

30 

18 

28 

18 

30 

18 

8 

19 

19 

19 

38 

19 

29 

19 

10 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

19 

20 

19 

21 

37 

21 

30 

2L 

18 

21 

It 

22 

37 

22 

42 

22 

27 

23 

31 

23 

48 

23 

32 

24 

34 

24 

48 

24 

18 

25 

53 

25 

05 

25 

20 

20 

59 

20 

24 

20 

29 

27 

52 

27 

37 

27 

39 

28 

59 

28 

39 

28 

30 

29 

40 

29 

31 

29 

23. 

30 

57 

30 

35 

30 

37 

31 

35 

31 

27 

1 

909 

1104 

942 

1 

458 

282 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


The  Day  of  Jubilee  lias  Come- — The  Sick 
Removed  to  the  Cars — Major  Gee  Announces 
Our  Rule  use  and  Departure — A  Crazy  Lot — 
Marching  out  of  Hell — “Farewell  Ye  Noble 
Dead!” — Pen  Pictures  of  Myself  and  Connely 
— The  March  Towards  Freedom  and  Home — 
Our  First  Camp — The  Wolf  Lies  Down  With 
the*  Lamb — Peaceful  Sleep  and  a  Joyful 
Awakening — On  the  Road  Again — Trade  a 
Ring  for  “Sow  Bosom” — A  Perilous  Crossing 
— -Two  Men  Drowned — Our  Second  Night’s 
Camp. 

February  22nd.  This  morning  the  prison 
was  in  commotion  at  an  early  hour.  Three  days’ 
rations  were  issued  to  each  man — one  loaf  for 
each  instead  of  for  two,  as  it  was  in  the  prison. 
One-half  of  the  guards  were  taken  from  the 
stockade,  the  big  gate  was  opened,  and  the  sick 
that  were  able  were  ordered  to  be  moved  out. 
They  were  moved  to  the  railroad  and  placed  on 
the  cars,  their  intimate  friends  rendering  them 
all  the  service  they  could.  Crocker  walked  out 


283 


and  was  put  into  a  stock  car.  Each  car  was 
filled  to  its  utmost  capacity; , some  of  the  poor 
fellows  had  to  stand,  others  were  piled  around 
wherever  room  could  be  found  for  them  to  lie 
down.  The  sick  were  loaded  by  11  o’clock 
(leaving  a  great  many  who  were  too  weak  to  be 
moved  at  all.  A  guard  lined  the  road  on  either 
side,  taking  great  care  that;  none  should  escape. 
Poor  fools,  this  precaution! was  entirely  unneces¬ 
sary  ;  not  a  man  of  us,  sick  or  well,  desired  to 
remain  in  this  accursed  country  any  longer  than 
he  had  to. 

Between  11  and  12  o’clock  Major  Gee  climbed 
on  the  stockade,  took  his  position  at  a  sentinel’s 
stand,  and  informed  us  that  we  were  now  to 
start  on  our  journey  to  our  lines,  and  owing  to 
the  amount  of  business  being  done  on  the  rail¬ 
road  to  Greensboro,  it  was  impossible  to  furnish 
us  transportation,  but  it  would  be  furnished  to 
us  from  that;  point  to  our  lines.  Here  let  me 
digress  long  enough  to  say  that  during  the  last 
three  months  there  have  been  from  one  to  four 
maniacs  in  the  prison.  Then  the  number  was 
reduced  to  two,  and  on  last.  Saturday  one  of 
them  died,  leaving  only  one.  But  judging  from 
the  scenes  that  took, place  after  he  had  ceased 
talking,  one  would  have  good  reason  to  say  that 
all  had  gone  crazy.  Some  would  curse  him, 
some  sing,  while  others  would  pray.  The  con- 


284 


fusion  of  tongues  was  as  great  as  at  the  build¬ 
ing  of  the  Tower  of  Babel. 

About;  half  past  12  o’clock  the  men  were 
formed  into  column  and  marched  out  at  the 
north  gate,  protected  on  each  side  by  a  heavy 
guard  of  rebel  soldiers.  What  a  splendid  oppor¬ 
tunity  this  was  for  some  artist  to  gain  renown 
by  drawing  a  picture  of  this  ragged,  emaciated 
army.  It  looked  more  like  an  army  of  skeletons 
than  an  army  of  men.  But  little  did  we  care 
how  we  looked.  We  were  at  last,  thank  God, 
outside  the  awful  living  hell — -Salisbury  Prison 
pen.  The  joy  of  our  release  ;  the  knowledge  that 
we  were  on  our  road  to  freedom  and  to  home, 
and  the  bright  anticipations  of  the  future  made 
us  perfectly  oblivious  to-  everything  else.  There 
was  one  thought,  I  however,  which  cast  a  gloom 
over  the  joy  of  this  happy  hour;  it  was  that  we 
were  leaving  behind  us  the  remains  of  so  many 
brave  comrades  who  were  near  and  dear  to  us 

by  the  close  association  of  prison  life,  with  its 

^  _ 

mutual  sorrows  and  sufferings.  We  may  leave 

you  behind,  brave,  noble,  loyal  comrades,  but  as 
long  as  memory  survives  we  will  never  forget 
you!  Brave  and  true  soldiers  ye  were  indeed! 
Every  man  might  have  saved  his  life  and  pro¬ 
cured  his  release  by  accepting  the  seductive 
inducements  of  the  rebel  recruiting  officers  who 
so  often  invaded  the  prison.  But  no;  ye  pre- 

285 


ferred.  honorable  death  to  a  dishonorable  life, 
the  price  of  which  must  be  treason  to  your 
Flag.  We  shall  ever  remember  your  noble  hero¬ 
ism  and  unswerving  fidelity  to  your  country. 
That  holy  Flag  for  which  you  have  died  will  yet 
wave  triumphant  over  treason  and  rebellion — 
the  Flag  of  a  united  Nation — the  land  of  the 
free  and  the  home  of  the  brave.  Your  names 
will  be  enshrined  in  the  affections  of  a  loval 
and  grateful  people,  while  the  names  of  your 
murderers  will  be  a  foul  stench  in  the  nostrils 
of  all  the  peoples!  of  the  earth.  With  profound 
sorrow  we  leave  you  behind.  Your  resting 
places  will  be  unkown  to  men,  but  they  will  be 
known  to  Him  whose  eye  sees  the  flight  of  a 
sparrow,  and  whose  love  has  counted  even  the 
hair  of  vour  heads.  Comrades  dead  and  beloved, 
farewell!  When  we  meet  again  it  may  be  to 
hear  from  Himiwho  deals  out  justice  tempered 
with  mercy  to  all,  the  welcome,  “Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the 
joy  of  thy  Lord!” 

Perhaps  my  readers  would  like  to  have  me 
give  them,  as  well  ais  I  can,  a  description  of 
mvself  as  I  looked  when  I  marched  out  of  Satis- 

9./ 

bury  Prison  this  memorable  dav.  It  will  be  a 
difficult  task,  but  I  will  make  the  attempt. 

First,  as  to  my  cooking  outfit.  If  consisted  of 
an  old  fruit  can,  a  wooden  spoon,  a  case-knife, 

m 


and  a  long-handled  frying  pan.  The  frying  pan 
was  a  .partnership  utensil  which  we  had  smug¬ 
gled  through  Major  Turner’s  revenue  office 
when  we  removed  from  Libby  Prison,  without 
his  stamps  of  approval  being  placed  upon  it, 
and  which  we  were  now  keeping  as  a  relic  of 
that  event.  I  was  also  in  possession  of  two  rub¬ 
ber  linger  rings  which  1  made  during  the  last 
few  days  I  spent  in  the  prison,  and  which  I 
wanted  to  take  home  to  my  wife.  In  order  to 
overcome  the  temptation  to  trade  them  off,  I 
put  them  on  the  third  finger,  on  which  they 
fitted  very  tightly.  In  this  way  I  hoped 
to  succeed  in  getting  them  home,  knowing 
how  well  my  wife  would  treasure  a  relic 
of  fills  kind,  especially  as  it_  was  made 
by  myself  .  in  the  prison.  £  For  hose,  I 
wore  a  pair  of  moccasins  made  out  of  the  legs 
of  an  old  pair  of  pants,  taken  from  the  dead 
body  of  a  comrade.  My  shirt  was  so  dilapidated 
that  it  was  not  strong  enough  to  hold  a  patch, 
while  the  left  sleeve  had  disappeared  altogether. 
My  pantaloons,  or  what,  out  of  respect  and 
courtesy,  I  called  pantaloons,  were  a  monument 
of  careful,  but  hopeless,  patching.  The  lower 
extremities  were  some  considerable  distance 
above  my  ankles,  while  their  general  condition 
provided  my  body  with  plenty  of  fresh  air.  My 
blouse,  much  the  worse  for  long  and  continuous 
wear  when  I  was  captured,  was  now  a  hopeless 

287 


mass  of  ruins,  and  was  of  the  seventeen  year 
locust  pattern, split  fup  the  back.  What  there  was 
left  of  it,  was  held  together  with  strings,  and 
unfortunately,  the  same  sleeve  was  gone  that 
was  missing  from  my  shirt.  For  this  reason  I 
was  compelled  to  turn  my  blouse  wrong  side 
out,  that  I  might  treat  both  arms  with  some 
sort  of  fairness.  Thus,  neither  naked  nor  clad, 
barefooted  nor  shod,  hoodwinked  as  to  our  des¬ 
tination,  with  an  old  regulation  cap  covering 
my  head,  which  gave  me  a  heathenish  appear¬ 
ance,  I  went  out  from  Salisbury  Prison  in  a  con¬ 
dition  that  would  have  been  a  lasting  disgrace 
to  a  third-class  tramp  of  our  day. 

Perhaps  a  partial  description  of  my  friend 
Oonnely’s  appearance  is  needed!  to  finish  the 
picture.  His  'shoes  could  scarcely  be  called 
“good;”  especially  would  they  be  accounted 
scarcely  serviceable  if  the  roads  were  muddy 
and  wet,  owing  to  the  fact  that  he  had  used  his 
knife  on  them  too  freely  when  captured,  as  he 
did  his  hat,  in  order  to  impress  his  thieving  cap- 
tors  that  they  wrere  scarcely  worth  taking  from 
their  lawful  owner.  The  crown  of  his  hat  had 
long  since  departed  into  innocuous  deseutude,” 
which  gave  the  graybaeks  a  fine  opportunity  of 
crawling  out  at  the  top  to  take  a  sun  bath  when 
their  health  and  the  weather  would  permit  them 
to  take  such  healthful  exercise.  His  shirt  had 


288 


been  on  the  gray  back  skirmish  line  so  often  that 
it  required  an  assistant  to  help  him  adjust  it  on 
his  noble  frame.  (The  frame  was  all  that  was 
left  of  him.)  His  blouse,  following  the  fashion 
of  the  day,  was  without  a  button,  and  almost 
sleeveless,  and  more  holy  than  righteous.  His 
pantaloons  had  shrunk  until  the  two  ends  were 
trying  to  embrace  each  other. 

In  the  condition  I  have  tried  to  describe  we 
started  to  take  a  regular  old-fashioned,  spread- 
eagle  tour  through  a  part  of  the  Southern  Con¬ 
federacy,  traveling  with  all  the  speed  possible 
for  a  better  “country,”  expecting  in  days  to 
come  to  reap  the  reward  to  which  we  were  fully 
entitled  by  reason  of  the  terrible  suffering  we 
had  endured. 

As  night  approached,  the  officer  in  charge 
conducted  us  to  one  side  of  the  road  and  into 
the  timber,  where  we  went  into  camp.  We  soon 
had  fires  burning  and  prepared  our  burnt-bread 
coffee.  We  had  three  days’  rations  and  felt  the 
necessity  of  governing  ourselves  accordingly — 
the  temptation  being  very  strong  to  eat  it  all  at 
this  first  meal  taken  on  the  road  to  liberty  and 
home.  Blessed  words!  How  sweet  thy  sound  in 
the  ears  of  a  poor  captive!  After  we  had  eaten 
sparingly  of  our  scanty  store,  we  gathered 
leaves  and  prepared  our  beds  for  the  night.  Not 
expecting  any  one  to  attempt  to  escape,  and  not 

289 


caring  if  they  did,  rebels  as  well  as  Union  men 
were  soon  wrapped  in  the  silence.of  sleep.  This 
was  one  instance,  at  least,  where  the  wolf  and 
the  lamb  lay  down  together.  How  blessed  it  is 
to  be  ont  where  we  can  breathe  the  pure  air  of 
God’s  own  giving.  What  a  wonderful  change 
from  the  stifled,  foul-smelling,  disease-laden  air 
we  have  been  inhaling  for  nearly  five  months! 
It  is  glorious  to  be  here  and  not  there;  new  life 
and  strength  are  coming  to  us  already. 

February  23rd.  The  dawning  of  this  morn 
ing  was  hailed  with  inexpressible  joy  that  we 
are  not  amid  the  disgusting,  heart-sickening 
scenes  and  surroundings  of  the  old  stockade. 
We  are  beginning  to  feel  like  new  men.  Fires 
were  blazing  and  we  were  soon  enjoying  their 
genial  warmth.  The  nights  are  quite  cold,  and 
having  very  little  covering  for  our  bodies,  we 
were  quite  chilled  and  the  fire  does  us  good.  We 
prepared  our  usual  burnt-bread  coffee,  and  by 
eight  o’clock  were  again  on  the  road,  with  our 
faces  and  hearts  turned  towards  home.  M> 
hunger  being  stronger  than  my  discretion,  1 
find  I  have  already  consumed  the  larger  portion 
of  my  rations,  and  fearing  I  would  run  short,  1 
started  out  to  try  and  trade  one  of  my  rings  for 
food. 

In  marching  part  of  the  guards  are  in  the 
lead  of  the  column,  the  rest  bringing  up  the 

290 


rear.  Much  to  our  astonishment  we  are  allowed 
to  travel  as  we  please,  and  even  to  visit  houses 
along  the  road.  While  we  were  passing  a  house 
this  forenoon-  two  ladies  were  standing  in  front 
to  see  the  Yankees.  I  approached  them, 
showed  them  my  rings,  and  proposed  to  trade 
them  one  for  some  meat.  One  of  the  ladies  went 
to  the  smokehouse  and  returned  with  a  piece  of 
“sow-bosom”  about  four  inches  square  and  two 
inches  thick,  for  which  I  gave  her  one  of  my 
rings.  When  I  tried  to  take  it  off  my  finger  I 
found  just  as  I  had  hoped,  my  finger  had 
swelled  and  it  seemed  very  doubtful  about  my 
coming  into  possession  of  that  much-coveted 
piece  of  dead  swine.  I  tried  soaping  the  finger, 
but  that  would  not  work.  The  lady  was  not 
going  to  be  deprived  of  her  “Yankee  relic”  so 
easily,  so  she  told  me  to  wait  a  moment  and  she 
would  get  the  ring  off  my  finger.  Going  into  the 
house,  she  soon  returned  with  a  spool  of  thread 
and  wrapped  some  of  it  about  my  finger  below 
the  ring.  Her  genius  succeeded,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  ring  was  in  her  hand,  the  “sow 
bosom”  in  mine,  and  two  more  souls  were  made 
happy.  But  it  took  the  skill  of  a  woman  to  do  it. 

•About  noon  we  came  to  a  stream  which, 
owing  to  recent  rains,  was  bankfull  and  the  cur¬ 
rent  running  with  terrible  swiftness.  The  only 
way  we  had  to  get  across  was  by  walking  on  the 

291 


railroad  bridge  which,  under  the  most  favorable 
conditions,  was  a  dangerous!  undertaking.  It 
was  doubly  so  now  owing  to  the  slippery  nature 
of  the  mud.  The  railroad  bridges  in  this  country 
are  different  kinds  of  structures  to  any  I  ever 
saw  before.  Generally  they  consist  of  a  frame 
work  built  across  the  stream,  on  which  timbers 
twelve  inches  square  are  laid  and  fastened.  The 
rails  are  spiked  in  the  center  of  these  cross 
timbers,  leaving  only  three  and  a  half  inches 
of  space  on  either  side  of  the  rails  to  walk  on. 
The  danger  of  walking  on  such  a  narrow  strip, 
over  a  swollen  and  rapidly  flowing  stream,  is 
apparent  to  all.  About  one  thousand  men  had 
to  cross  before  I  reached  the  bridge.  Some 
would  “coom”  it  across  .  Others  would  walk  the 
stringers,  placing  a  foot  on  each  side  of  the  rail 
and  joining  hands,  would  thus  assist  each  other 
in  the  difficult  task.  I  tried  the  latter  plan,  but 
concluded  if  I  fell  in  I  wanted  to  go  by  myself. 

After  getting  about  half  way  across,  I  became 
dizzy  and  got  down  on  my  knees  and  “conned” 
it  the  remaining  distance,  much  to  the  delight  of 
others,  but  with  perfect  satisfaction  to  myself, 

After  reaching  the  other  side  of  the  stream,  I 
stepped  to  one  side  and  waited  for  Oonnely  to 
cross,  and  while  jwiaiting,  I  heard  a  cry  from 
the  middle  of  the  bridge.  I  looked  in  that  direc¬ 
tion  and  saw  two  men  fall  and  strike  the  water 


292 


SOUTHERN  RAIL  ROAD  BRIDGE. 


7 


293 


together.  They  came  to  the  surface  and  started 
for  the  shore  near  where  I  was  standing,  but  the 
current  was  so  strong  and  swift  they  could  not 
make  any  headway,  and  so  drifted  down  the 
stream.  Every  effort  possible  was  made  to 
rescue  them,  but  to  no  purpose;  they  soon  went 
down  to  rise  no  more.  It  was  sad  to  think  just 
as  the  poor  fellows  were  on  the  threshold  of  lib¬ 
erty,  and  expecting  soon  to  meet  their  loved 
ones,  they  went  down  to  a  watery  grave.  Thus 
their  long-cherished  hopes  were  blighted,  and 
two  more  homes  were  left  to  mourn  for  the 
loved  ones  who  would  not  return.  The  column 
succeeded  in  getting  across,  the  stream  without 
further  accident,  and  wended  its  wav  through  a 
drearv,  desolate  country.  To  our  great  delight 
and  comfort  the  weather  was  fine,  the  sun  was 
warm  and  shed  its  bright  rays  on  our  poor,  half- 
clad  bodies,  which  filled  us  with  good  cheer  and 
hope,  in  spite  of  our  general  wretchedness.  Our 
progress!  was  very  slow,  the  roads  being  quite 
muddy.  Mymoccasins  were  in  such  a  dilapidated 
condition  that  I  was  compelled  to  abandon 
them,  and  failing  to  find  a  substitute,  I  had  to 
continue  the  journey  barefooted.  Owing  to  the 
fatigued  condition  of  the  prisoners,  we  went 
into  camp  quite  early  in  an  open  field,  or  clear¬ 
ing,  where  we  soon  built  up  fires,  and  once  more 
drew  on  our  scanty  rations,  I  had  eaten  about 

m 


one-half  of  my  “sow  bosom”  raw  during  the 
afternoon,  and  a  paid  of  the  remainder  I  put 
into  the  can  in  which  I  made  my  burnt-bread 
coffee,  which  made  a  rich  cup  of  coffee,  or  soup, 
for  my  supper.  After  eating  supper,  we  again 
prepared  our  beds  and  lay  down  for  another 
night’s  rest  under  a  clear  sky,  and  in  a  pure 
atmosphere.  ( 


295 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Rations  all  Gone — Improvised  Shoes — Sick  and 
Dead — Humane  Officers — My  Last  Ring  Goes 
for  Bread — On  the  Wagon  Road — Curiosity — 
Foraging  for  Food — Flour  and  Sour  Molasses 
— “Who  Stole  My  Corn.?” — Supper  and  a 
Sleepless  Night — A  Strange  Discovery — 
Intense  Suffering — A  Terrific  Storm — My 
“Shoes”  Abondoned — Keen  Suffering — 
Greensboro  and  Rations — Off  for  Raleigh — 
The  Town — No  Rations — A  Noble  Deed  of  a 
Noble  Child — Off  for  Goldsborough — A  Poor 
R  ailroa  d — G  o  1  d  sb  o  r  o  u  gli — H  ome  Anti  cipa  - 
tions. 


February  24th.  The  night  has  passed  and 
morning  has  again  dawned.  We  are  alive,  but 
thoroughly  chilled,  the  night  having  been  very 
cold.  We  are  now  drawing  on  our  last  day's  , 
rations,  and  they  are  so*  reduced  in  quantity  that 
it  almost  requires  a  magnifying  glass  to  dis¬ 
cover  them.  Fires  are  lighted  and  our  scanty 
meal  is  soon  prepared  and  eaten.  We  are  now 
facing  the  painful  fact  that  our  rations  are  all 

296 


gone  and  we  are  still  two  days  distant  from 
Greensboro,  where,  they  tell  us,  they  will  take 
up  our  “tie  passes”  and  allow  us  to  ride  the 
rest  of  the  wav.  My  feet  are  so  sore  this  morn- 

«/'  ts 

ing  that  it  causes  me  great  pain  to  walk  bare¬ 
footed.  They  burn  as  if  they  were  frozen.  Hay¬ 
ing  no  further  use  for  the  tent  in  which  I  have 
been  carrying  my  food,  I  tied  pieces  of  it  about 
my  feet  as  best  I  could,  hoping  in  this  way  to 
protect  them  from  the  gravel  roads  over  which 
we  travel. 

We  started  out  between  8  and  9  o’clock,  eager 
to  reach  the  end  of  our  journey.  The  good  hope 
of  reaching  home  acts  as  a  stimulant  to  many 
who,  under  other  circumstances,  could  not 
endure  the  fatigue  of  marching.  After  camp 
was  cleared,  five  men  were  found  who  could  not 
travel,  being  sick,  with  a  very  high  fever.  In 
addition  to  these  ten  were  reported  as  having 
died  during  the  night.  The  officer  in  command 
left  one  comrade  and  one  guard  to  stay  with  the 
sick,  giving  them  instructions  to  signal  the  first 
train  passing  and  put  them  on  board.  It  is  evi¬ 
dent  our  old  friend,  Major  Gee,  is  not  in  com¬ 
mand  of  this  detachment,  or  such  favors  as  this 
would  not  be  shown  to-  the  sick.  We  are  under 
the  command  of  a  Captain,  who  has  two  Lieu¬ 
tenants  as  his  assistants,  and  so  far,  they  have 
been  kind  enough  to  give  us  all  the  liberty  we 


297 


could  ask  for.  This  afternoon  I  was  compelled 
to  trade  my  last  ring  for  something  to  eat.  I 
got  in  return  for  it  a  corn  dodger  weighing 
about  two , pounds,  and  a  piece  of  tobacco  two 
inches  square. 

During  the  afternoon  we  left  the  railroad  and 
began  traveling  on  the  wagon  road',  which  is  not 
so  crooked,  thereby  saving  about  two  miles  of 
travel.  The  route  along  the  public  roads  is 
thickly  settled,  and  at  every  house  we  pass  the 
doors  and  front  yards  are  filled  with  women  and 
children  eagerly  scrutinizing  the  Yankees. 
Many  comical,  and  not  very  flattering  remarks 
are  made  concerning  our  appearance.  Some  are 
afraid  to  come  out  of  the  doorway,  and  are  ready 
to  retreat  in  case  a  Yankee  should  move  towards 
the  house.  During  the  day  we  crossed  several 
streams  on  the  railroad  bridges  and  succeeded 
in  crossing  without  any  accident.  We  also 
crossed  one  stream  on  the  wagon  bridge,  which 
is  much  safer  and  speedier  than  using  the  rail¬ 
road  bridges.  We  marched  to  a  later  hour 
today  than  usual,  and  consequently  .we  are  a 
tired  and  discouraged  lot  of  human  beings.  The 
rations  were  all  consumed  in  the  morning,  so 
we  have  nothing  to1  eat  tonight.  Owing  to  the 
muddy  roads,  picking  our  way  over  the  slippery 
ties  of  the  railroad,  when  we  walked  there, 


298 


made  today’s  march  one  of  very  intense  suffer- 
i  n  o’ 

Before  we  went  into  camp  for  ,the  night  Oon- 
nely  and  myself  had  all  our  corn  bread  eaten  up, 
and  we  were  still  one  day’s  march  from  Greens¬ 
boro.  It  was  thought  we  could  coyer  the  dis¬ 
tance  in  three  days,  but  we  got  such  a  late  start 
on  the  22nd,  and  the  roads  being  so  muddy,  that 
it  took  us  longer  to  make  the  trip.  During  the 
day  stragglers  were  visiting  farm  houses  in 
search  of  something  to  eat,  but  owing  to  tlieir 
destitue  circumstances  the  people  were  able  to 
give  them  but  very  little.  However,  we  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  getting  some  sweet  potatoes,  corn  and 
corn  bread.  Many  persons  yame  in  from  the 
plantations  with  pockets  full  of  sugar-cane  seed, 
which  made  the  best  substitute  for  coffee  we 
have  found  in  Dixie.  I  found  one  generous  lady 
who  gave  me  two1  sweet  potatoes.  At  another 
place  I  procured  two  good  sized  ears  of  corn.  It 

*  was  nearly  dark  when  the  head  of  the  column 
halted  and  went  into  camp,  The  outlook  was 
dreary  and  so  disheartening.  We  were  tired, 
hungry  and  foot-sore.  About  one  hour  after  we 
went  into  camp,  plantation  carts  were  driven  up 
’  loaded  with  flour  and  sour  molasses.  This  was 
issued  to  us  at  the  rate  of  about  one  pint  of 
flour  and  about  four  ounces  of  molasses  to  each 
man.  After  we  had  received  our  rations  Con- 

299 


nelly  went  out  an  search  of  water,  and  while  he 

t/  S 

was  gone  I  sat  down  pn  our  blanket  with  the 
flour  and  molasses  in  front  of  me,  and  the  sweet 
potatoes  and  corn  under  the  blanket.  When 
Connelly  returned  with  the  water  J  mixed  our 
flour  into  a  sort  of  mush,  and  while  lie  was  boil¬ 
ing  it  I  was  going  to  parch  the  corn  so  we  could 
enjoy  (Some  genuine  corn-coffee.  Imagine,  if  you 
can  my  feelings  when  I  looked  under  the  blanket 
to  get  my  corn  and  found  it  was  gone.  When  or 
how  the  two'  nice  ears  of  corn  were  taken  I 
could  not  tell,  as  I  had  not  been  away  from  the 
blanket  a  single  moment.  My  disappointment 
at  the  loss  of  our  treasure  was  so  great,  that 
the  words  uttered  would  scarcely  be  appropri¬ 
ate  for  these  pages.  I  was  certain  I  knew  who 
had  stolen  the  corn,  but  when,  with  many  harsh 
and  bitter  words,  I  accused  him  of  the  theft,  lie 
stoutly  denied  the  charge  and  strongly  pro¬ 
tested  his  innocence.  But  his  protests  and 
denials  neither  satisfied  my  feelings  nor 
appeased  my  appetite.  The  man  was  a  member 
of  my  own  regiment,  but  lie  was  in  such  a 
wretched  condition  that  I  was  certain  he  would 
not  live  to  reach  our  lines,  and  for  him  to  eat  it 
was  simply  a  waste  of  good  food.  What 
wretched,  selfish,  almost  inhuman  creatures 
starvation,  abuse  and  suffering  will  make  of 
men!  We  were  cheated  out  of  our  coffee,  but 

300 


when  our  mnsh  was  cooked,  we  poured  the  sour 
molasses  over  it  and,  with  our  wooden  spoons, 
made  short  work  of  it.  We  then  eat  our  sweet 
potatoes,  after  which,  the  hour  being  late,  we 
lay  down  on  the  wet  ground,  covering  ourselves 
with  the  blanket,  in  which  manner  we  passed  a 
sleepless,  wretched  night. 

February  25th.  I  find  myself  very  weak  and 
exhausted  this  morning.  I  am  very  feverish 
and  my  whole  system  is  tortured  by  pain.  Yes¬ 
terday  was  one  of  the  worst  days  I  have  passed 
since  I  was  taken  prisoner,  and  I  am  feeling  the 
effects  of  it  today.  The  suffering  caused  by  the 
wet  condition  of  my  clothes  was  greatly  aug¬ 
mented  by  consuming  hunger. 

Our  adopted  Johnnie  came  to  us  and  gave 
us  some  sugar  cane  seed,  which  we  parched  and 
with  which  we  made  some  coffee.  We  drank 
the  coffee  and  eat  the  seed  which,  in  a  small 
wav,  served  to  appease  our  dreadful  hunger. 

The  early  morning  was  beautiful  to  behold, 
but  the  sky  was  soon  overcast  with  dark  clouds 
and  a  severe  thunder-storm  broke  upon  us.  I 
think  it  was  one  of  the  worst  storms  I  ever  saw. 
It  was  accompanied  by  a  drenching  rain,  Which 
lasted  three  hours.  We  were  without  shelter 
or  fire,  and  so  were  compelled  to  keep  moving  to 
avoid  being  chilled.  The  pieces  of  tent  with 


301 


which  my  feet  were  covered  became  so  wet  and 
heavy  with  water  and  mud  that  I  could  not  keep 
them  on  piy  feet;  I  was  compelled-  to  abandon 
them  and  continue  my  journey  barefooted. 
After  the  rain  ceased  it  remained  cloudy  and 
chilly  until  about  1  o'clock  when,  to  our  great 
delight,  the  sun  came  out  bright  and  warm. 

We  are  now  nearing  the  end  of  our  journey 
and  are  anxious  to  get  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
town.  Trains  were  running  to  and  from  it,  and 
we  were  often  compelled  to  get  to  one  side  of 
the  track  to  give  them  the  right  of  way.  About 
2  o’clock  we  came  in  sight  of  the  town,  and  a 
hearty  hurrah  was  sent  up  from  one  end  of  the 
column  to  the  other.  A  young  “tar-heeel” 
asked  if  we  were  cheering  their  flag?  One  of 
our  boys  said  that  the  people  of  Goldsborough 
saw  us  coming  and  thought  it  was  Sherman’s 
army  approaching,  and  they  had  pulled  down 
their  old  rag,  andyit  would  not  be  long  until  it 
was  pulled  down  at  Richmond. 

Our  progress  was  very  slow  and  our  suffering 
intense.  While  we  could  see  the  town  and  were 
so  anxious  to  reach  it,  yet  it  was  with  the  great¬ 
est  difficulty  we  could  muster  strength  enough 
to  go  on.  Some  were  so  fatigued  and  discour¬ 
aged  they  felt  like  lying  down  by  the  roadside 
and  giving  up  the  struggle,  but  They  were 
encouraged  and  urged  forward  by  more  hopeful, 

302 


determined  comrades,  who  reminded  them  that 
the  fair  land  of  freedom  and1  of  home  was  not 
far  distant,  and  the  victory  would  soon  be  ours. 
The  officer  in  command  also  helped  to 
encourage  us  forward  by  telling  us  that  when 
we  got  to  the  town  we  would  be  served  with 
rations,  and  ride  the  rest  of  our  journey. 

About  5  o’clock  we  entered  Greensboro,  more 
dead  than  alive,  and  were  camped  in  the  out¬ 
skirts  of  the  town,  with  a  guard  all  about  us. 
A  good  many  of  the  boys  were  left  by  the  road¬ 
side  during  the  last  few  miles  of  our  march, 
they  being  too  weak  to  keep  up.  Some  guards 
were  left  behind  to  accompany  them  as  they 
became  able  to  travel.  Rations  of  corn  bread 
were  issued  to  us.  The  loaves  were  supposed  to 
weigh  one  pound  each.  When  the  stragglers 
were  all  in  and  had  eaten  their  corn  bread,  we 
were  put  on  board  the  cars,  destined  for  Ral¬ 
eigh,  North  Carolina.  Our  train  pulled  out  of 
Greensborougk  at  9  o’clock  P.  M.  We  were 
piled  on  flat  cars,  there  being  only  two  or  three 
box  cars,  and  they  were  filled  to  their  utmost 
capacity.  It  was  my  misfortune  to  be  assigned 
to  a  flat  car,  and  there  were  so  many  crowded  on 
it,  that  those  who  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  car 
were  in  constant  danger  of  being  crowded  off.  I 
sat  on  the  edge  of  the  car,  but  took  the  pre¬ 
caution  to  place  one  foot  against  the  iron  stake 


303 


and  thus  braced  myself,  making  my  position 
more  safe.  The  speed  of  the  train  was  very  slow 
and  the  night  air  quite  cold.  Sleep  was  out  of 
the  question,  especially  to  those  who  were  sit¬ 
uated  as  I  was.  The  men  who  were  seated  on 
the  floor  of  the  car  could  get  some  sleep  by  put¬ 
ting  their  backs  together,  but  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  car  was  too  dangerous  a  position  to 
admit  of  going  to  sleep. 

February  26th.  We  reached  Kaleigh  about 
8  o’clock  this  Sabbath  morning,  haying  passed 
through  a  night  of  great  suffering.  Soon  after 
reaching  the  town  we  were  unloaded  and  were 
soon  surrounded  by  the  citizens,  who  were 
anxious  to  see  what  a  Yank  looked  like.  We 
were  interviewed  and  reviewed  by  both  black 
and  white,  male  and  female,  and  if  they  formed 
their  opinion  of  us  from  our  present  appearance, 
I  am  sure  we  would  not  be  flattered  by  them. 
But  it  was  brutes  and  demons  of  their  own  ilk 
who  brought  us  into  the  condition  we  are  in. 
When  I  got  off  the  train  my  feet  were  so  sore 
my  knees  and  ankles  ached  so  severely,  I  could 
not  walk  without  assistance.  We  remained  here 
until  about  1  o’clock  P.  M.  Having  eaten  up  all 
the  bread  issued  to  me  at  Greensborough,  I  am 
now’  without  any  food  to  satisfy  my  hunger.  If 
I  had  any  money,  or  any  relics  to  dispose  of,  I 
could  have  purchased  food,  but  the  only  relics 


304 


I  have  left  are  wrapped  up  in  my  piece  of  tent, 
and  nothing  could  now  tempt  me  to  part  witn 
them.  Some  of  the  boys  took  a  walk  around 
town,  but  I  was  not  able  to  walk,  and  even  if  I 
had  been  able,  I  would  not  have  gone,  because  I 
have  seen  all  of  this  doomed  Confederacy  I  want 
to  see.  I  would  be  supremely  happy  if  I  could 
see  the  whole  country  falling  into — Hades. 

When  the  command  started  for  the  depot  it 
was  with  very  great  difficulty  that  I  could  stand 
on  my  feet,  but  the  fair  and  beautiful  homeland 
of  which  I  had  so  often  dreamed  by  night  and 
by  day  seemed  so  near  that  I  used  my  utmost 
exertions  to  walk.  Connelly  came  to  my  help 

0 

by  telling  me  that  tomorrow  we  would  see  our 
flag  once  more.  This  put  new  strength  into  my 
aching  limbs,  and  enabled  me  to  march  to  the 
depot  to  take  the  train  for  freedom.  The  depot 
was  four  or  five  blocks  away,  and  while  we  were 
marching  along  the  street,  and  passing  a  small 
cottage,  a  little  girl  some  five  or  six  years  old, 
came  running  towards  me  with  a  pair  of  old 
boots  in  her  hands  having  the  tops  cut  off  at 
the  instep.  She  reached  them  to  me,  saying: 

“Here,  soldier,  is  an  old  pair  of  boots;  they 
are  not  very  good  ones,  but  they  will  keep  your 
feet  off  the  stones.” 

You  may  imagine  my  joy  as  well  as  my  grati¬ 
tude  to  the  dear  child.  I  immediately  put  them 

305 


on,  and  from  that  day  to  this,  I  have  never  had 
any  foot-gear  I  appreciated  as  I  did  those  old 
boots.  I  thanked  the  little  girl;  placed  my  hand 
on  her  head  and  prayed  for  the  blessing  of  God 
to  rest  upon  her.  In  my  haste,  and  the  excite¬ 
ment  of  the  moment,  I  forget  to  ask  her  name, 
which  I  would  be  glad  to  have  enshrined  in  my 
heart,  as  I  have  her  kind  act  to  me,  in  my  desti¬ 
tute  condition.  When  ,she  accosted  me  she  did 
not  say,  as  all  southerners  do,  “Yank!”  She 
said  “Soldier!”  a  royal  term  of  which  I  was 
never  more  proud  than  at  that  moment.  Does  it 
not  indicate  that  in  her  home  'there  were  hearts 
that  beat  affeetionaely  for  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,  and  for  those  who  had  suffered  in 
defence  of  that  dear  Flag?  We  reached  the 
depot  and  were  soon  aboard  the  cars  bound  ,for 
Goldsborough,  where  we  are  to  be  paroled.  Our 
train  was  composed  of  flat  cars,  and  by  making 
great  exertions,  I  was  on  board  in  time  to  get 
a  middle  berth.  The  train  pulled  out  and  bore 
us  away  toward  our  lines,  where  we  shall  regain 
our  freedom  and  then — home.  The  country 
through  which  we  passed  looked  so  desolate  and 
forsaken  that  I  wondered  the  sun  thought  it 
worth  while  to  shine  upon  it  at  all,  but  God  is  so 
merciful  that  He  maketh  His  sun  to  shine  upon 
the  bad  as  well  as  upon  the  good.  I  am  sure 
He  does  more  than  man  would  do — especially 
men  in  our  condition.  The  speed  of  our  train  is 

B06 


very  slow,  at  ieast  it  seems  so  to  us.  The  road 
is  very  rough  and  much  out  of  repair,  and  from 
the  clatter  (m!ade  by  the  engine  and  cars,  they 
are  not  in  better  shape  than  the  road-bed.  Usu¬ 
ally  the  grades  are  quite  steep,  and  on  one  grade 
the  engine  failed  to  reach  the  level.  The  train 
was  backed  down  and  we  were  compelled  to 
wait  an  hour  until  steam  sufficient  to  take  us 
up  the  grade  could  be  made.  We  reached 
Goldsborough  just  at  dark,  and  were  marched 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  out  of  the  city,  where  we 
entered  a  clearing  and  camped  for  the  night. 
Connely  and  myself  found  a  dry  spot,  or  as  dry 
a  snot  as  we  could,  which  was  near  a  large  pine 
stump.  Here  we  lay  down  on  the  bare 
ground,  pulling  our  blanket  over  us,  this  being 
the  only  piece  of  bedding  we  now  possess.  We 
talked  of  home  and  the  comforts  we  would  soon 
be  enjoying,  and  already  anticipated  the  joyful 
welcome  we  would  receive  from  those  who,  no 
doubt,  have  long  since  mourned  for  us  as  dead, 


307 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Disappointed  and  Despondent — Hope  and  Fear 
— More  Dead — Rumors  of  Parole — Sick  and 
Sad — Bright  Anticipations — Paroling  Begins 
— Our  Johnnie  Paroled — Bound  for  Dear 
Freedom's  Land— “Good-bye  Confederacy  !”— 
Railroad  Accident — A  Desolate  Region- 
Friends  in  Sight — The  Loyal  Blue  and  the 
Old  Flag — A  Striking  Contrast — Hot  Blood' — 
Freedom ! 

February  27th.  This  morning  brings  sadness 
to  the  prisoners.  The  usual  quantity  and  qual¬ 
ity  of  dodger  was  issued  to  us,  and  at  the  same 
time  we  received  the  information  that  the  parol¬ 
ing  could  not  proceed  until  to-morrow  owing  to 
the  failure  of  the  paroling  officer  to  reach  here. 
He  was  due  to  be  here  this  morning,  but  had  not 
arrived,  and  no  word  had  been  received  from 
him.  It  was  thought  certain  he  would  arrive 
some  time  to-day.  They  have  pledged  us  their 
honor  that  we  shall  be  paroled  from  this  place 
just  as  soon  as  possible.  Honor,  indeed!  That 
the  great  body  of  Salisbury  prisoners  have  very 

308 


little  faith  in  the  honor  of  the  Southern  chivalry 

v 

might  well  be  understood  from  the  mutterings 
of  distrust  and  fear  heard  on  every  hand.  Many 
are  of  the  belief  that  it  is  only  a  ruse  to  allay 
our  fears  and  keep  us  quiet,  while  they  push  us 
on  to  another  prison  pen.  Some  are  aroused  to 
deep  anger  and  are  intimating  the  attempt  at 
another  outbreak  if  their  fears  should  be  real¬ 
ized.  Others  are  s(ad,  weary  and  despondent, 
and  almost  ready  to  give  up  and  die.  Is  it  not 
strange  that  men  situated  as  we  are,  starved, 
sick  and  worn  out,  can  stand  so  much  mental 
and  physical  sniftering?  The  day  is  chilly  and 
dreary,  but  fortunately  for  us  there  is  plenty  of 
wood  here  and  good,  brisk  fires  are  kept  burn¬ 
ing,  which  brings  comfort  and  warmth  to  our 
bodies. 

February  28th.  This  morning  the  sun  looks 
cheerful,  and  as  the  weather  is  much  more  pleas¬ 
ant  than  it  was  yesterday,  the  spirits  and  hopes 
of  the  prisoners  were  greatly  revived.  We  were 
on  the  road  to  a  day  of  happiness,  but  when  our 
rations  were  issued,  the  commanding  officer, 
read  a  letter  purporting  to  have  been  written 
by  the  paroling  officer,  to  the  effect  that  he 
would  be  here  on  the  noon  train  and  paroling 
would  begin  as  soon  as  possible.  He  requested 
that  all  preliminary  matters  be  attended  to  at 


309 


once,  so  that  the  work  of  paroling  might  be  car¬ 
ried  on  as  soon  as  he  arrived.  Notwithstanding 
the  seeming  assurances  of  the  letter,  a  good 
many  relapsed  into  a  gloomy,  discouraged  state 
of  mind. 

Quite  a  number  of  our  poor  boys  answered  to 
roll  call  last  evening  for  the  last  time.  During 
the  night  seven  or  eight  died  and  were  buried 
this  morning.  The  great  wonder  is  that  the 
number  of  prisoners  who,  if  they  do  not  speedily 
reach  our  lines  where  they  can  be  properly  cared 
for,  will  not  need  to  be  paroled.  The  report  has 
reached  camp  that  the  paroling  officer  has 
arrived  and  tents  are  being  put  up  for  the  occa¬ 
sion.  This  report  was  brought  iu  by  a  colored 
man,  and  is  corroborated  by  him,  saying: 

“Me  help  to  stake  the  tents.” 

The  word  of  this  colored  man  has  more 
weight  with  us  than  the  “honah”  of  any  rebel  in 
the  Confederacy.  While  I  have  been  very 
despondent,  Connely  has  been  all  aglow  with 
bright  hopes.  He  says  we  are  surrounded  by 
our  own  men  and  they  have  to  parole  us  as  there 
is  no  place  they  can  take  us  to  but  our  own  lines. 
I  feel  I  must  die  soon  unless  I  get  relief.  The 
“breakybone  fever”  is  having  a  deep  hold  on  me, 
and  it  is  only  a  question  of  a  short  time  which 
will  conquer.  David  says: 


310 


“Cheer  up;  there  is  a  better  time  coming. !” 

I  hope  it  may  speedily  come.  If  it  does  not, 
I  am  afraid  I  will  not  be  here  to  greet  it. 

March  1st.  This  morning  we  were  up  early, 
not  from  choice,  but  because  we  were  so  cold  we 
could  not  lie  on  the  ground  any  longer.  Several 
tires  were  started  in  the  camp,  at  one  of  which  I 
warmed  myself.  My  condition  is  deplorable. 
My  stomach  is  empty  of  food,  my  knees  and 
ankles  tortured  with  excruciating  pain,  my 
whole  body  weak  and  feeble;  but  I  hope  soon  to 
be  within  our  lines  aud  then  farewell  to  rebel - 
dom,  hunger,  misery;  all  hail  to  cheer,  plenty, 
friends  and  happiness! 

Rations  were  issued  to  us  as  usual,  after 
which  we  were  ordered  to  fall  into  line  and 
march  to  headquarters  to  sign  our  parole 
papers.  We  marched  to  where1  four  or  five  bell 
tents  had  been  pitched,  when  an  officer  called 
out: 

“Here,  some  of  you’uns  come  in  here  and 
write  out  the  parole  papers  for  them!” 

Connely  insisted  that  I  should  go  for  one, 
which  would  expedite  matters;,  and  we  would 
get  away  sooner,  as  they  had  informed  us  a 
train  was  in  waiting  to  convey  us  to  our  lines  as 
soon  as  the  work  of  paroling  wTas  completed.  I 
reluctantly  consented  to  act  as  Secretary  pro 

311 


inn  for  the  bogus,  and  now  nearly  defunct,  Con¬ 
federacy.  All  tlie  parole  papers  were  written 
by  our  men.  Why,  I  know  not,  unless  it  was 
because  they  did  not  have  men  who  knew 
enough  to  write  their  names.  I  worked  hard, 
hoping  we  would  get  done  by  noon  so  we  could 
get  out  of  here,  but  it  was  a  larger  task  than  we 
could  complete  in  so  short  a  time.  Dave  had 
found  our  adopted  Johnnie  and  brought  him  up 
to  sign  his  parole.  He  was  paroled  as  “Jacob 
Berry.”  (Berry  was  my  brother-in-law,  a  mem¬ 
ber  of  my  company,  who  was  killed  by  the  cars 
near  Joliet,  Illinois*,  in  the  fall  of  1863,  while 
en-route  for  his  home  on  a  sick  furlough.)  He 
seemed  to  breathe  freer  air  after  he  had  signed 
his  papers.  One  officer  was  stationed  at  each 
tent  and  as  fast  as  the  men  signed  their  names, 
they  were  marched  off  to  themselves,  counted, 
and  kept  separate  until  the  work  was  all  done, 
which  was  not  until  late  in  the  evening.  Just 
at  dark  all  were  marched  to  the  depot  and  again 
loaded  on  the  train.  This  run  was  to  be  the  last 
and  was  to  take  us  out  of  rebeldom,  for  which 
we  were  truly  thankful.  Two  of  the  men  who 
were  on  the  same  car  with  me  died  during  the 
night.  It  seemed  so  sad  to  witness  the  death 
of  these  poor  fellows  just  as  they  were  on  the 
point  of  reaching  home;  but  the  suffering  of 
body  and  mind  was  more  than  the  /  could  endure 


312 


and  two  more  victims  of  rebel  cruelty  were 
added  to  the  tremendous  account  they  will  have 
to  render  to  God. 

We  were  “making  haste”  very  slowly;  the 
road-bed  being  in  such  bad  condition,  it  was 
impossible  to  go  at  a  decent  rate  of  speed  with¬ 
out  endangering  the  lives  of  all  on  the  train. 
In  many  places  the  speed  did  not  much  exceed 
that  of  a  good  walker.  Sometime  between  mid¬ 
night  and  daylight  the  train  parted,  three  cars 
running  back  to  the  foot  of  the  grade.  The 
engineer  pulled  the  rest  of  the  train  fully  two 
miles  before  the  mishap  was  discovered.  The 
three  loose  cars  went  down  the  grade  at  a  rapid 
speed  and  did  not  stop  until  they  struck  an 
up-grade  on  the  opposite  way.  Our  engine 
started  after  the  cars  and  met  them  as  they 
were  returning  in  our  direction,  they  having  run 
up  the  grade  a  distance  sufficient  to  impart 
great  momentum  to  them  as  they'  came  back. 
Seeing  that  a  rear-end  collision  was  inevitable, 
our  engineer  slowed  down,  and  before  he  could 
get  started  again,  the  “wild”  cars  were  gaining 
on  us  at  a  rapid  rate.  Our  situation  was  any¬ 
thing  but  pleasant.  The  engine  was  put  to  the 
best  speed  possible,  which  did  not  exceed  eight 
miles  an  hour,  when  the  cars  struck  us  with  tre¬ 
mendous  force,  scattering  us  in  every  direction. 

313 


Fortunately  the  only  injury  done  was  a  severe 
shaking  up  of  the  prisoners. 

For  many  hours  we  had  not  seen  a  living 
human  being  in  the  country  through  which  we 
were  passing,  and  but  few  houses,  all  of  which 
seemed  to  be  destitute.  There  were  no  towns 
nor  stations  of  any  importance  on  the  railroad. 
The  country  was  swampy,  covered  with  heavy 
pine  timber,  the  only  industry  carried  on  being 
the  making  of  tar,  rosin  and  turpentine.  Pea¬ 
nuts  were  raised  by  the  farmers;  and  carted  to 
Wilmington  whre  they  were  sold.  It  was  as 
forlorn  and  desolate  a  region  as  I  ever  saw. 

March  2nd.  At  the  dawn  of  day  we  saw  a 
man  on  horseback  whom  we  took  to  be  a  scout 
or  forager,  but  being  so  far  away  we  could  not 
tell  whether  he  was  a  Yank  or  a  Johnnie.  An 
hour  later  we  discovered  four  infantrymen  out 
foraging.  They  were  carrying  something  on 
their  backs,  but  we  could  not  tell  what  it  was. 

However,  we  could  make  out  their  blue  uni¬ 
forms  quite  plainly,  which  convinced  us  we  were 
nearing  our  lines.  Hope  took  on  new  life,  and 
the  joy  of  the  famished,  half-starved  prisoners 
was  expressed  by  cheers.  About  7  o’clock  A. 
M.,  our  train  stopped  and  gave  a  loud,  shrill 
whistle.  We  were  sure  this  meant  something 
of  importance.  By  looking  forward  a  mile 

314 


ahead  of  us  we  could  see  rifle-pits  running  at 
right  angles  with  the  track.  We  could  also  see 
the  bright  guns  of  the  guards  flash  in  the  sun¬ 
light  as  they  paced  to  and  fro,  but  they  were  too 
far  away  for  us  to  distinguish  whether  they  were 
friends  or  foes.  The  suspense  we  were  under 
going  was  terrible.  It  was  evident  front  the 
conduct  of  our  guards  that  we  were  near  the 
place  where  the  other  fellows  had  the  guns  and 
were  in  power,  and  their  reign  was  at  an  end. 
A  little  dandy  of  a  Captain  who  seemed  to  be 
in  command  since  we  left  Goldsborough,  walked 
from  the  rear  of  the  train  to  the  front.  As  he 
passed  we  could  see  that  liis  face  tvas  pale  and 
his  eyes  shone  as  if  he  was  in  a  state  of  excite¬ 
ment.  When  he  had  reached  the  forward  part 
of  the  train  he  called  to  the  guards  in  a  squeak¬ 
ing  voice: 

“Here,  you  fellers,  thar,  git  down  heah  and 
form  a  line!” 

They  obeyed  the  order,  but  evidently  intended 
to  take  their  own  time  in  doing  it.  They  hud¬ 
dled  together  more  like  a  flock  of  sheep  than  a 
detachment  of  soldiers.  We  took  in  the  situa¬ 
tion  immediately.  The  line  we  saw  in  our  front 
was  the  outworks  of  our  glorious  army,  and  the 
cowardly  guards  were  not  certain  that  even  a 
flag  of  truce  would  save  them  from  the  punish¬ 
ment  their  crimes  so  richly  deserved.  They 

815 


were  scared  out  of  their  senses  when  brought 
face  to  face  with  Union  soldiers  who  had  guns 
that  would  shoot.  The  contemptible,  cowardly 
wretches!  There  was  a  vast  difference  between 
walking  their  beats  on  the  platform  around  Sal 
isbury  stockade,  and  deliberately,  and  with  mur¬ 
der  intent,  shooting  down  poor,  helpless  prison¬ 
ers,  and  standing  face  to  face  with  the  comrades 
of  these  murdered  men,  who,  if  the  word  had 
been  said,  would  have  revenged  the  death  of  their 
comrades.  But  they  were  under  a  flag  of  truce, 
and  Union  soldiers  knew  how  to  honor  and 
respect  it.  Would  they  have  done  as  much 
under  the  same  circumstances?  T  doubt  it. 

Our  engine  gave  a  loud,  long  and  shrill 
whistle,  and  then  the  train  moved  along  so  close 
to  our  line  that  we  could  see  the  grand,  loyal 
blue  that  clothed  the  line  in  our  front,  while  a 
little  to  the  westward  we  could  see  the  glorious 
Flag,  the  stars  and  stripes,  the  emblem  of  free¬ 
dom,  and  whose  stars*  never  flashed  so  brightly, 
and  whose  waving  never  seemed  so  majestic,  as 
it  did  this  moment.  It  seemed  to  me  the  world 
could  not  produce  the  equal  of  the  men  whom 
our  eager  eyes  were  looking  at.  Well-formed, 
stalwart,  robust,  healthy,  well-clothed  and  well- 
fed — :a  striking  contrast  to  the  scrawny,  vilb'an 
visaged,  diminutive  clay-eaters  and  white  trash 
who  had  looked  down  upon  us  from  their  sentry 


316 


boxes  at  Salisbury  Prison.  We  could  now  see 
the  white  flags  on  the  front  and  the  sides  of  our 
engine,  and  a  group  of  our  men  were  standing 
on  the  railroad  track  in  our  front,  and  we  knew 
we  were  on  the  inner  tlireshhold  of  our  land  of 
freedom.  I  sprang  off  the  car,  forgetting  all 
about  the  pains  in  my  ankles  and  knees.  Soon 
others  did  likewise,  and  then  the  “getting  off” 
became  general.  Presently  the  little  dandy 
Captain  looked  back,  and  motioning  to  us  said 
in  that  old,  hateful  and  brutal  tone  of  voice: 

“Git  back  on  that  call,  dah!” 

An  hour  before  this  time  I  would  have  obeyed 
that  order  instantly,  knowing  if  I  did  not  a  but- 
let  from  a  murderous  rebel's  gun  would  be  sent 
straight  at  me;  but  now  I  felt  I  was  once  more 
a  free  man,  with  all  the  rights,  liberties  and  dig¬ 
nity  of  a  Union  soldier  under  the  protection  of 
the  old  Flag,  and  in  the  presence  of  comrades 
loyal  and  true,  who  had  guns  and  who  knew 
how  to  handle  them.  I  looked  the  “tar-heel” 
Captain  in  the  face,  and  with  all  the  vehemence 
I  could  possibly  throw  into  my  voice,  said  to 
him: 

“You  go  to  h — 11,  you  white-livered  son  *of  a 
b — h;  your  day  of  authority  is  passed.  When  1 
get  some  meat  on  my  bones  I  hope  Fli  meet 
some  of  your  tribe  on  equal  grounds,  and  we 
will  talk  this  matter  over!” 


317 


He  passed  by  me  and  never  opened  his  mouth. 
His  day  of  shooting  was  over;  the  end  of  his 
reign  was  reached.  Descending  from  the  cars, 
w e pa sfse d'thr  ou gh  our  lines,  a  Rebel  and  a  Union 
clerk  checking  us  off  and  counting  us  as  we 
passed  through. 


318 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


A  Thrilling  Scene — Generous  Comrades — Wel¬ 
come  Address — The  March  to  Wilmington — 
The  Dear  Old  Flag — Weeping  Comrades — 
Grub,  and  Plenty  of  It— -A  Great  Feast  — 
Drunk  on  Coffee — A  Good  Sleep — Easy  Slro?s 
— Farewell  to  Our  Adopted  Johnnie — Our 
First  Night’s  Sleep  Under  the  Flag — A  Glad 
Awakening — Sad  Sights' — Plenty  vs.  Starva¬ 
tion — An  Invitation  to  Dinner-  -Drawing 
Rations — Force  of  Habit — On  Board  Ship. 

March  2nd,  Continued.  I  wish  I  had  the 
power  to  carry  my  readers  back  to  the  moment 
and  place  described  in  the  last  chapter.  I  would 
show  them  a  scene  which  lies  beyond  the  power 
of  mortal  man  to  describe;  it  must  have  been 
seen  to  be  appreciated.  The  point  of  our  lines 
first  reached  was  North-East  River,  a  few  miles 
from  Wilmington.  The  outer  works  were  held 
by  colored  troops  who  were  true  to  the  trust 
reposed  in  them.  All  the  men  who  were  off  duty 
crowded  around  us  and  lavished  unstinted  kind¬ 
ness  on  us.  They  gave  us  blankets,  shirts, 

319 


.shoes,  pantaloons  and  other  articles  we  stood  so 
much  in  need  of.  They  were  placed  here  with 
only  three  days’  rations,  and  now  they  had  given 
all  to  us,  And  seemed  sorry  that  they  did  not 
have  more  to  give.  The  sick  men  were  carried 
by  willing,  tender  hands  to  comfortable  beds  of 
leaves  and  blankets.  A  great  number  of  huge 
and  generous  fires  were  made,  and  we  were 
given  ample  room  to  stand  around  them  and 
warm  our  cold  bodies.  All  who  were  able  to 
walk  were  ordered  into  line  to  march  to  Wil¬ 
mington.  At  this  time  a  Lieutenant,  or  Cap¬ 
tain,  I  have  forgotten  which,  stepped  ,to  the 
front  and  made  us  a  short  address  of  welcome 
to  cheer  us  up  and  encourage  us  to  march  to  the 
city, /Where,  he  said,  rations  were  being  prepared 
for  us,  promising  us  all  ,we  could  eat,  and  the 
best  the  land  afforded.  He  told  us  that  after  we 
had  reached  Wilmington  our  hardships  would 
be  ended,  and  a  generous  Government  would 
remember  our  loyalty  to  the  Flag,  enduring  the 
suffering  we  did  rather  than  join  the  rebel 
army.  He  spoke  very  feelingly  and  lovingly  of 
the  poor,  famished  comrades  who  could  not 
resist  the  temptations  held  out  to  them  by  the 
rebel  authorities,  and  goaded  by  the  desperation 
of  hunger,  were  led  away  to  join  the  rebel  army. 

Those  who  were  able  to  stand  marched  to  the 
city,  where,  within  a  mile  of  headquarters,  the 

320 


old  Flag  was  proudly  waving  to  welcome  us 
home.  At  the  sight  of  the  Flag  a  great  shout 
swept  along  the  line : 

“Our  Flag  is  there!” 

Thep  a  hurrah  went  up  which  told  how  glad 
we  were  to  see  that  Banner  for  whose  defense 
we  had  suffered  so  much.  All  shouted  and  cried, 
and  cried  and  shouted,  until  nature  could  do  no 
more.  The  climax  was  reached  when  we  drew 
near  to  headquarters  and  saw  that  poles  had 
been  , erected'  on  each  side  of  the  road  which 
were  wreathed  in  evergreens,  and  a  banner 
drawn  across  the  road  from  pole  to  pole,  on 
which  was  inscribed,  in  large  gilt  letters,  these 
words! : 

“We  welcome  you  home,  our  brothers!” 

It  was  intended  that  we  should  march  under 
this  banner  while  a  brass  band  was  standing  at 
its  base  playing  “Home,  Sweet  Home.”  This 
was  more  than  we  could  bear.  The  sight  of  the 
Flag,  the  cordial  welcome  extended  to  us,  the 
touching  (Strains  of  the  dear  old  song,  unmanned 
us.  Men  fell  down  by  the  side  of  the  road  and 
wept  like  children — wept  tears  of  joy;  joy  that 
could  be  expressed  only  by  tears.  The  band 
had  to  cease  playing  before  the  column  could 
be  induced  to  move  forward.  Then  the  men 
rose  to  their  feet,  east  their  eyes  up  to  the  ban¬ 
ner,  when  another  outburst  of  joyous  tears  was 

321 


indulged  in.  I  noticed  old  veterans  who  had 
been  accustomed  to*  scenes  of  sadness  on  many 
a  hard-fought  battle  field,  and  could  look  upon 
them  apparently  unmoved,  who,  as  they  looked 
upon  our  emaciated  and  naked  bodies,  and  into 
the  faces  which  bore  the  evidences  of  extreme 
suffering  from  starvation,  sickness  and  cruelty, 
wept  tears  of  sorrow,  showing  that  their  great,' 
true,  loyal  hearts  sympathized  with  ns  and  were 
ready  to  do  us  any  service  that  was  in  their 
power.  It  was  now  high  noon,  and  we  had 
been  fasting  since  early  yesterday  morning.  We 
soon  gathered  up  strength  and  marched  to  the 
headquarters  of  the  Commissary,  where  we  were 
bountifully  supplied  with  good,  genuine  army 
coffee  and  plenty  of  sugar,  meat,  onions,  soft 
bread  and  “hard  tack.”  If  a  prisoner  looked 
wishfully  for  more,  after  lie  had  eaten  his  first 
supply,  more  was  at  once  handed  to  him,  the 
Commissary  Sargeant  saying: 

“Here,  my  friend,  is  plenty  of  it;  take  all  yon 
can  carry.” 

So  it  was  with  everything,  and  it  was  hard 
for  us  to  believe  it.  We  had  been  undergoing 
the  starving  process  so  long  that  it  was  difficult 
for  us  to  understand  that  there  was  enough  of 
anything  anywhere  to  satisfy  our  appetites. 
Connely  and  I  hungered  for  coffee,  t-hei  long- 
talked  of,  much-wished  for,  good,  old  army 

322 


/ 


coffee.  We  drank  of  it  until  we  were  filled,  and 
still  its  delicious  fragrance  filled  tlie  air  and 
intoxicated  our  senses.  I  drank  so  much  of  it 
that  I  was  positively  and  helplessly  drunk,  and 
many  others  were  in  the  same  condition.  When 
the  Post  physician  was  notified  of  the  state 
we  were  in,  he  ordered  watches  to  be  placed 
over  us  to  keep  us  from  over-eating,  or  serious 
results  would  follow.  Ambulances  were  sent 
out  from  Wilmington  to  get  the  prisoners  who 
were  not  able  to  travel;  they  were  brought  in 
and  tenderly  cared  for.  Two  poor  fellows  who 
died  on  the  train  last  night  were  also  brought 
in  and  buried  under  the  Flag,  with  all  the 
honors  due  to  true  soldiers.  How  often,  as  men 
have  died  in  the  prison,  they  have  said  their 
only  regret  was  that  they  would  have  to  lie  in 
southern  soil.  If  they  could  only  be  buried 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
death  would  have  no  sting  for  them. 

During  the  afternoon  we  were  surrounded  by 
the  old  soldiers,  who  would  sit  and  listen  to  our 
stories  of  grief  and  woe  as  long  as  they  could 
induce  the  prisoners  to  talk;  and  many  and 
many  a  cheek  was  wet  with  tears  as  the  awful 
truth  was  told  them,  or,  at  least,  as  we  tried  to 
tell  it.  We  were  now  in  need  of  sleep,  as  we 
had  little  or  none  on  the  route  here.  My  stom¬ 
ach  being  satisfied  for  the  first  time  since  that 


328 


eventful  day  when  I  was  captured,  October, 
1864,  I  began  to  feel  I  must  have  some  rest  and 
sleep.  While  I  was  looking  for  a  place  to  lie 
down,  a  comrade  of  a  Pennsylvania  regiment 
told  me  to  come  with  Mm  and  he  would  find  a 
bed  for  me.  He  took  me  ;to  his  own  quarters, 
gave  me  his  own  bunk,  arranged  a  good,  com¬ 
fortable  bed  for  me,  on  which  I  lay  down  and 
had  a  good  sleep.  When  I  awoke  it  was  nearly 
night.  I  felt  refreshed,  bodily  and  mentally, 
but  my  ankles  and  knees  still  suffered  the  tor¬ 
turing  agony  of  the  terrible  breakybone  fever. 
Mv  feet  also  were  very  sore,  my  old  boots  being 
so  loose  they  chafed  my  feet,  and  made  them 
yerv  painful.  I  had  pulled  them  off  to  ease  my 
feet,  when  a  comrade  came  to  me,  looked  at  my 
feet,  and  told  me  not  to  put  the  old  boots  on 
again,  but  wait  until  he  returned.  While  he 
was  telling  me  this,  the  big  tears  stood  in  his 
generous  eyes.  He  soon  returned  with  a  pair  of 
good,  easy  shoes  and  a  pair  of  nice  socks..  He 
requested  me  to.  try  them  on  and  if  they  fitted 
to  wear  them.  I  obeyed  his  request,  found  them 
just  the  fit,  and,  wore  them,  with  comfort  to  my 
feet  and  joy  to  my  soul.  God  bless  that  gener¬ 
ous  comrade! 

I  went  out  in  search  of  Oonnely,  and  while 
looking  for  him,  I  met  our  adopted  Johnnie,  who 
was  glad  to  see  me,  telling  me  he  was  going  to 


324 


New  York  on  the  first  boat  he  could  get  away 
on,  and  probably  would  never  see  us  again.  He 
expressed  his  gratitude  to  us  for  the  great,  inter¬ 
est  we  had  taken  in  him  in  securing  for  him  his 
liberty.  I  took  his  name,  but  before  I  could 
copy  it  in  my  journal,  I  lost,  the  paper,  and  thus 
all  trace  of  him  has  passed  from  me.  If  this 
book  should  come  to  his  notice,  I  would  be 
delighted  to  hear  from  him.  I  found  Connely 
and  J.  W.  Jennings,  of  Company  “E,”  preparing 
supper.  After  eating  a  hearty  meal,  we  began 
to  look  for  a  place  to  , rest  for  the  night,  which 
we  found  under  a  porch  near  the  wharf,  where 
we  fixed  a,  comfortable  bed,  and  there  we  three 
lay  down  together,  with  the  echos  ef  the  music 
of  the  band  still  ringing  in  our  ears' — “Home, 
Sweet  Home!”  When  we  awoke  in  the  morning 
I  was  dazed  and  bewildered.  I  could  not  for  a 
moment  realize  that  the  events  through  which  1 
had  passed,  and  for  which  I  had  so  long  prayed 
and  ,hoped,  were  indeed  realities.  I  feared  I  was 
passing  through  one  of  those  awful,  tantalizing 
dreams  that  had  hauted  me  during  my  hours  of 
sleep  in  prison;  dreams  in  which  all  the  happi¬ 
ness  and  freedom  of  home  would  appear  to  me 
so  vividly,  only  to  be  followed  by  a  wretched, 
tormenting  awakening.  But  I  soon  became  con¬ 
scious  of  the  joyful  fact  that  this  was  no  dream, 
but  a  glorious  reality. 


325 


To  many  who  came  out  of  Salisbury  Prison 
with  us,  and  endured  the  great  fatigue  and 
suffering  of  the  march  and  weary  transporta¬ 
tion  to  our  lines,  the  beams  vof  the  rising  sun 
brought:  no  gladness,  because  during  the  night 
the  “weary  wheels  of  life  had  ceased  to  move,” 
and  their  eves  were  forever  closed  to  all  eartlilv 

4/'  9s 

scenes,  whether  of  joy  or  sorrow.  The  dead  lay 
with  teeth  showing  through  parted  lips,  their 
faces  bearing  evidences  of  the  awful  suffering 
through  which  they  had  passed;  the  rotting  feet 
and  limbs;  their  almost  fleshless  hands  clenched 
in  the  last  agonies  of  death,  <all  told  a  tale  of 
horror  which  chills  the  blood  in  one’s  veins  to 
look  upon.  Their  sad  fate,  dying  within  the 
threshold  of  Freedom’s  land — almost  within 
sight  of  home — seemed  much  more  sad  to  me 
than  the  fate  of  those  who  had  died  while  yet  in 
the  prison.  Most  of  them  were  so  near  death 
that  it  is  very  doubtful  if  they  even  realized 
they  were  once  more  under  the  protection  of  the 
Flag  they  had  loved  unto  death. 

Cj  9,' 

Connely,  Jennings  and  myself  went  to  work 
and  prepared  a  breakfast  fit  for  a  king.  We  had 
a  large  coffee-pot  full  of  good,  rich  coffee,  a  pan 
of  well  fried  bacon,  onions,  soft  bread  and  hard 
tack.  What  a  sudden  transformation  from  the 
customs  of  the  “dining  rooms”  in  Salisbury 
Prison!  Then  and  there,  only  one  meal  a  day; 


326 


sometimes,  yes,  many  times,  only  one  meal  in 
thirty-six  and  forty-eight  hours,  the  menu  con¬ 
sisting  of  a  small  loaf  of  bread  made  out  of 
meal,  into  which  was  ground  corn,  cob,  husk 
and  all,  and  that  raised  (with  lime.  Now,  three 
full  meals  a  day  composed  of  the  very  best 
Uncle  Sam  can  provide;  there  it  was,  in  any 
quantity  we  wished  to  ,  take  it.  We  were 
informed  that  sometime  during  the  day  boats 
would  be  at  the  dock  to>  take  us  to  Annapolis, 
from  which  place  we  would  receive  furloughs  al¬ 
lowing  usi  to  go  home.  Who  can  describe  our 
emotions  as  this  glad  news  fell  on  our  ears?  As 
mv  feet  were  so  sore  I  was  not  able  to  walk 
around  very  much,  and  being  eager  to  get  home 
as  soon  as  possible  to  obtain  the  medical  treat¬ 
ment  and  nursing  I  needed  so  much,  I  did  not 
feel  like  taking  as  much  interest  in  my  present 
surroundings  as  some  others.  A  comrade  of  an 
Indiana  regiment  invited  me  to  go  with  him  to 
his  qua  rt  er s  for  di  n  ner .  H  is  name  was  William 
Lucas.  I  accepted  the  invitation,  and  on  our 
way  to  his  quarters,  we  passed  by  the  Commis¬ 
sary  headquarters.  Just  in  front  of  it  was  a 
platform  scale  used  for  weighing  rations.  I 
stepped  on  the  scales  and  was  weighed,  and  I 
tipped  the  beam  at  eighty-seven  and  a  half 
pounds.  This  fell  a  good  deal  short  of  my  fight¬ 
ing  weight.  One  week  before  I  was  captured  1 


327 


weiged  181  pounds,  , that  in  some  way  or  other 
I  had  left  94^  pounds  of  myself  divided  between 
Libby  and  Salisbury  Prisons.  If  these  rem¬ 
nants,  wherever  they  may  be  floating  about,  will 
only  haunt  and  trouble  the  wretches  whose 
treatment  took  them  away  from  me,  I  will  not 
regret  the  decrease  in  ^weight.  Comrade  Lucas’s 
mess  was  composed  of  four  big-hearted  and 
robust-looking  soldiers.  I  was  introduced  to 
the  mess,  received  a  warm  welcome,  and  was 
made  as  comfortable  as  possible.  In  a  remark¬ 
ably  short  time  a  dinner  was  prepared  which 
seemed  to  me  to  be  inexcusably  extravagant. 
One  of  the  mess  had  visited  the  sutler’s  tent  and 
returned  with  canned  fruits,  sauce  and  jellies. 

Besides  these  luxuries,  we  had  fresh  fish  (not 

✓ 

the  kind  we  had  at  Salisbury),  soft  bread,  good 
coffee  with  plenty  of  sugar,  and  in  fact  every¬ 
thing  the  market  afforded  was  spread  before  me 
at  that  dinner.  And  what  a  dinner  I  did  eat! 
The  contrast  was  so  great  and  tempting  1  could 
not  resist.  If  this  thing  keeps  up  much  longer 
1  will  degenerate  into  a  child  of  luxury,  aud 
will  have  to  ask  to  be  sent  back  to  my  old 
quarters  and  fare  at  Salisbury  in  order  to  learn 
abstemiousness  and  humility.  However,  I’ll  try 
it  awhile  longer.  It  is  good  as  far  as  I  have 
gone.  What  queer  fellows  these  soldiers  are! 
I  do  believe  they  would  have  killed  me  by 


328 


urg  in  of  me  to  “eat  more!”  Their  enjoyment  was 
as  great  at  seeng  me  eat  as  mine  was  to  be  per¬ 
mitted  to  eat  ,t lie  good  things  their  whole-souled 
generosity  had  provided  for  me. 

About  3  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  we  were 
ordered  to  fall  in  and  draw  rations.  This  was 
a  bewildering  order  to  us,  as  we  had  formed  the 
habit  of  drawing  rations  only  once  a  day — some¬ 
times  once  in  two  or  three  days — and  only  one 
small  loaf  then.  We  fell  into  ranks  and 
marched  to  a  group  of  Commissary  Sergeants 
who  dtealt  to  each!  prisoner  food1  to  last  him  three 
days.  One  Sergeant  handed  to  each  man  a  loaf 
of  soft  bread  and  two  days’  rations  of  hard  tack; 
another  handed  out  rations  of  coffee;  another  a 
large  slice  of  bacon;  another  a  handful  of  sugar, 
and1  last  of  all  came  onions  and  pickles  in  pro¬ 
fusion.  We  have  been  inside  our  lines  only 
twenty-eight  hours,  have  had  four  good,  full 
meals,  and  now  are  loaded  down  with  rations  to 
supply  our  needs,  during  the  three  days  it  will 
take  us  to>  reach  Annapolis.  This  is  undreamed 
of  luxury.  Our  expectations  are  more  than  real¬ 
ized. 

Some  of  the  prisoners  had  befcome  so  accust¬ 
omed  to  trading  rations  while  in  the  prison  pen 
that  a  habit  had  been  formed  which  could  not  be 
broken  off  all  at  once.  And  so  the  old  time  bar¬ 
tering  began.  Some  traded  meat  for  coffee; 

329 


others  traded  onions  and  pickles,  for  tobacco. 
We  had  a  good  laugh  at  them,  telling  them  they 
were  not  in  prison  now;  that  there  was  plenty 
here,  and  Uncle  Sam  was  shipping  supplies  in 
as  fast  as  we  could  use  them. 

It  was  sundown  when  we  marched  to  the 
wharf  and  boarded  a  large  steamship  named 
“Sunshine.”  How  appropriate  the  name — to 
us!  It  did  bring  “sunshine”  to  our  poor,  weary 
hearts;  something  we  have  known  very  little  of 
during  many  long  months.  Wilmington  is 
thirty -five  miles  from  the  sea.  For  that  dis¬ 
tance  the  river  is  calm  and  flows  through  the 
most  beautiful  scenery.  At  the  mouth  of  the 
river  are  Forts  Fisher  and  Casewell,  the  strong 
est  sea-coast  forts  in  the  Confederacy.  When 
we  reached  the  mouth  of  the  river,  our  vessel 
anchored  for  the  night. 


330 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


On  the  Rolling  Sea — A  Beautiful  Morning — A 
Change  in  Feeling — Xo  Time  for  Sentiment — 
Sea  Sick — In  Danger — '“Water  Good  to  Settle 
Mad  Bees” — Annapolis — Cleansed  and  Made 
Clean — Delightful  Experiences — Benton  Bar¬ 
ra  cksr — Plenty,  but  Can’t  Eat — Sick — An  Egg 
Episode1 — Submission  and  Reconciliation — 
Pay  and  Furlough. 

March  3rd.  Never  did  the  sun  appear  to 
shine  so  brightly  as  when  he  arose  this  morning 
and  poured  his  resplendent  light  on  land  and  on 
sea.  Our  ship  weighed  anchor  and  we  were 
soon  tossing  on  the  wide,  open  sea.  In  a  little 
while  we  were  out  of  sight  of  land,  and  as  the 
boys  remarked,  “  we  could  see  no  more  of  the 
Confederacy.”  The  rolling  of  the  vessel,  the 
enchanting  sights,  and  the  novelty  of  our  sur¬ 
roundings  served  to'  make  this  one  of  the  most 
memorable  mornings  of  my  life.  I  was  now 
beginning  a  new  life,  and  it  was  about  to  begin 
in  dead  earnest.  I  was  leaning  over  the  bul¬ 
warks  of  the  steamer,  thinking  of  the  awful 

331 


monotony  of  prison  life,  and  contemplating  the 
majesty  of  the  deep,  when  all  at  once  I  felt  as 
though  a  one  hundred  pound  ■shell  had  exploded 
in  my  stomach.  The  beautiful  scenery,  the 
majesty  of  the  ocean,  the  graceful  sweep  and 
poise  of  the  sea-gulls,  the  glinting  of  the  sun¬ 
light  on  the  choppy  waves,  had  no  more  enchant¬ 
ment  for  me,  I  had  other  business  on  hand  and 
I  must  attend  to  it  at  once.  I  turned  to  go 
below  when  my  eyes  fell  on  the  most  affecting 
and  wretched  sight  I  ever  beheld.  Every  man 
in  sight  was  paying  penalty  for  having  indulged 
too  freely  in  Uncle  Sam’s  hospitality  at  Wil¬ 
mington.  Every  one  was  calling  out,  “New 
York!”  as  if  that  famous'  city  was  the  next  sta¬ 
tion  and  near  at  hand.  The  sight  was  so  over¬ 
powering  to  my  feeling  that  I  rushed  to  the  rail¬ 
ing  and  gave  into  the  bosom  of  old  ocean  all  the 
commissary  stores  I  had  accumulated  since  1 
arrived  insJide  Uncle  Sands  domains.  I  vomited 
until  I  was  as  empty  as  a  Salisbury  Prison  meal 
sack.  There  was  a  vacuum  within  me  that 
extended  clear  to  my  toes,  and  was  clamoring 
for  more  territory.  I  feared  that  with  every 
overthrow,  or  upthrow,  or  output,  I  would 
bring  up  my  new  shoes,  and  part  company  with 
my  comfort-giving  socks.  I  started  below, 
thinking  I  would  lie  down  amidships  hoping  to 
allay  the  terrible  struggle  going  on  in  my 

332 


stomach.  I  descended  four  or  five  steps  of  the 
ladder,  when  a  perfume  arose  and  greeted  me 
which  was  strong  enough  to  spoil  a  “limburger 
'cheese.”  I  stepped  back  for  fresh  air,  and  con¬ 
cluded  to  try  it  again.  Reaching  the  foot  of  the 
ladder  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  our  camp- 
cry,  and  yelled  out : 

“Here’s  your  mule!” 

This  was  beyond  human  endurance.  They 
were  as  mad  as  they  were  sick,  and  were  only 
waiting  for  a  good  opportunity  to  explode  their 
wrath.  My  innocent  “war-whoop”  furnished 
the  opportunity,  and  they  were  not  slow  to  seize 
it.  So  they  began  to  get  up  on  all  sides,  curse, 
shake  their  fists  at  me,  and  threaten  to  wreak 
dire  vengeance  on  me,  winding  up  their  ferocity 
by  yelling: 

“You  get  out  of  here  or  we  will  knock  the 
head  off  of  you!” 

Not  knowing  what  men  in  such  desperate  con¬ 
ditions  might  be  led  to  do,  especially  as  every 
fellow  was  trying  to  give  liis  “mule”  away  to 
some  other  fellow,  I  considered  that  discretion 
was  the  better  part  of  valor,  and  retreated  in 
ha ste — but  in  good  order.  Reaching  the  deck 
again  I  now  began  to  join  in  the  universal  call, 
“New  York!  New  York!”  The  sailors  were 
now  washing  off  the  decks,  and  having  accom 
plis'hed  that  feat,  started  to  go  below  with  the 

333 


hose  and  brooms  to  wash  out  the  lower  regions 
from  which  I  had  to  make  such  a  hasty  exit. 
Miserable  a’S  I  felt,  I  could  not  keep  from  laugh¬ 
ing  when  I  saw  them  go  down  the  ladder,  and 
expecting  to  see  some  fun  I  concluded  to  follow 
them.  As  soon  as  they  reached  the  foot  of  the 
ladder  the  hoseman  turned  on  the  water,  throw¬ 
ing  it  in  every  direction.  This  met  with  a  vol¬ 
ley  of  curses  from  every  quarter,  but  the  curses 
did  not  intimidate  the  hoseman.  He  threw 
water  all  over  the  men,  saying: 

“When  bees  gets  mad,  the  way  to  settle  them 
is  to  throw  water  on  them.” 

It  is  safe  to  say  the  plan  worked  well  in  this 
case  also. 

Annapolis,  Maryland,  March  6th,  1865. 

Since  making  my  last  entry  I  have  been  so 
sea-sick  I  could  not  write.  We  reached  Annap¬ 
olis  yesterday  morning.  Nothing  of  importance 
transpired  on  our  trip;  any  more  than  we  were 
the  worst  sea-sick  crew  that  ever  landed  at  an 
Annapolis  wharf. 

When  we  reached  our  lines  a  few  days  ago 
our  stomachs1  were  empty  and  in  bad  condition. 
Then  when  we  were  taken  into  the  midst  of  a 
super  abundant  plenty,  with  hands  on  every  side 
only  too  willing  to  hand  it  out  to  us,  we  were 
not  strong  enough  to  resist  the  temptation  to 

334 


overload  our  stomachs.  Hence,  we  were  good 
sxibjects  to  bestow  rich  libations  on  the  shrine 
of  the  god  Neptune.  And  we  did  it  handsomely, 
lavishly.  We  will  never  do  it  again. 

We  were  marched  to  the  barracks  where 
breakfast  was  furnished  us.  We  were  then 
drawn  up  in  line  and  every  man  was  required  to 
give  his  name,  company  and  regiment.  After 
this,  each  man  was  furnished  with  a  complete 
suit  of  clothes,  consisting  of  blouse,  pants,  over¬ 
coat,  blanket,  two  shirts,  two  pairs  of  drawers, 
two  pairs  of  socks,  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  a  regula¬ 
tion  hat,  after  which  we  were  conducted  to  the 
bath  house.  At  this  point  I  got  leave  of  absence 
long  enough  to  go  across  the  street  to  an  artist’s 
studio  where  I  had  my  picture  taken,  minus 
my  old  prison  garb.  Many  other  prisoners  did 
likewise.  On  returning  to  the  bath  house,  we 
were  stripped  naked,  our  old  clothing  being 
thrown  into  a  pile  at  the  rear  of  the  building. 
While  I  was  stripping,  my  pieces  of  tent,  con¬ 
taining  all  my  valuables,  went  with  the  rest. 
Against  this  spoliation  of  my  treasures  I  pro¬ 
tested,  and,  naked  though  I  was,  I  made  a 
spring  for  the  pile,  crawled  on  top  of  rags  and 
graybacks,  secured  my  valuables,  threw  the 
pieces  of  tent  away,  returned  and  deposited  my 
valuables  with  an  attendant  until  I  called  for 
them.  I  was  requested  to  sit  down  on  a  stool, 

385 


336 


when  a  barber  came  and  shaved  my  head  as 
closely  as  only  an  expert  could  do  it.  Then  we 
were  conducted  to  the  bath  tubs,  into  which  we 
went  and  were  rubbed  and  ’scrubbed  by  two 
strong  men.  In  a  few  moments  every  vestige 
of  prison  grime  was  removed  from  our  bodies, 
enough  to  be  subject  for  taxation  in  God’s  coun¬ 
try.  We  were  then  passed  on  to  two  other  men 
who,  with  coarse  towels,  wiped  us  dry.  We 
then  passed  into  another  room  where  we  put  on 
our  new  clothes  and  came  out  full-fledged 
Yankees.  Everything  here  is  reduced  to  a  per¬ 
fect  system.  During  all  the  process  of  our 
cleansing,  not  a  word  was  spoken.  So  rapidly 
was  the  work  done,  that  in  ten  minutes  from  the 
time  we  went  into  the  bath  room,  covered  with 
rags,  dirt  and  graybacks,  and  with  a  matted 
shock  of  hair  on  our  heads,  we  marched  out 
clean  and  newly  clothed  in  Uncle  Sam’s  best 
brand  of  clothing.  We  began  to  feel  that  we 
were  really  men  once  more.  We  were  next 
marched  to  the  barracks  where  each  man  regis¬ 
tered  his  name,  rank,  company,  regiment,  where 
and  when  captured,  where  and  when  released. 
Then  we  were  paid  at  the  rate  of  twenty-five 
cents  a  day  for  rations  while  we  were  in  prison. 
This  done  in  order  that  we  might  have  money 
to  provide  ourselves  with  such  necessaries  as  we 
needed.  Uncle  Sam  was  very  kind  to  his  boys. 


337 


The  offic  er s  did  everything  for  our  comfort  it 
was  possible  for  them  to  do.  A  brass  band  fur¬ 
nished  delightful  music  every  morning  and 
evening.  All  we  had  to  do  was  to  enjoy  the 
good  things  and  good  cheer  that  were  provided 
for  us,  and  this  we  were^  doing  with  grateful 

hearts. 

^  / 

As  night  approached,  Connely  and  I  found  a 
bunk  filled  with  straw  on  which  we  spread  our 
blankets,  undressed  and  went  to  bed  like  human 
beings,  a  thing  we  had  not  been  able  to  do  for 
many  months.  How  changed  our  sleeping  as 
well  as  our  waking  conditions!  Clean  blankets; 
no  vermin  to  eat  into  our  bodies,  and  torment 
our  rest;  no1  fear  of  being  shot  by  cruel  guards; 
no  tantalizing  dreams  to  disturb  our  slumbers. 
I  believe  this  was  the  best  night’s  sleep  I  ever 
enjoyed  up  to  that  time.  On  awakening  in  the 
morning,  we  talked  of  the  contrast  of  our  sur¬ 
roundings  now  and  those  of  one  week  ago.  Now, 
clean  clothes,  plenty  to  eat,  and  that  of  the  best 
this  fair  land  could  afford,  a  land  where  twenty- 
five  cents  in  greenbacks  would  buy  more  than 
twenty-five  dollars  in  grayback  scrip.  Surely 
our  happiness  was  complete!  What  more 
could  we  want?  Yes,  dear  reader,  do  not  con¬ 
sider  us  selfish,  ungrateful  beings  if  I  say  there 
was  one  thing  more  we  wanted — home  and  loved 
ones.  And!  we  were  going  to  both. 

388 


Benton  Barracks,  St,  Louis,  Mo., 

March  13th,  1865. 

We  reached  this  place  last  evening,  coming 
via  Baltimore,  Columbus,  and  Indianapolis — a 
long  and  tedious  trip.  Owing  to  our  extreme 
weakness  we  did  not  enjoy  the  trip.  We  have 
been  industriously  accumulating  everything  we 
could  reach  in  the  shape  of  commissary  stores, 
and  the  rich  dainties  provided  for  us  by  the 
Christian  charity  of  the  Sanitary  Commission, 
until  our,  stomachs  now  rebel  against  the  accu¬ 
mulation  of  anything  more.  Quite  a  number 
of  the  boys  left  us  at  Columbus,  Ohio,  and  India¬ 
napolis,  Indiana,  these  places  being  the  distrib¬ 
uting  points  of  their  respective  commands. 
Those  remaining  with  us<  being  Iowa,  Illinois 
and  Missouri  troops,  are  to  receive  twot  months 
pay  and  be  furloughed  home  from  this  place.  A 
large  number  are  sick  and  in  the  hospital.  We 
are  here  reminded  of  the  Irishman’s  contrast 
between  a  rich  man’s  stomach  and  a  poor  man’s 
stomach.  He  said: 

“The  poor  man  has  to  find  matte  for  his 
stomach;  tand  the  rich  man  has  to  furnish  a 
stomach  for  his  mate.” 

The  good  old  hard  tack,  “sow-bosom,”  and 
army  coffee  are  placed  befotffc  us  in  abundance, 
but  our  stomachs  rebel  at  sight  of  them.  Our 

339 


appetites  have  entirely  failed  us.  To  me,  every¬ 
thing  eatable  is  loathsome,  yet  I  am  hungry  all 
the  time.  Home  is  now  the  only  subject  on 
which  my  mind  dwells;  the  days  seem  to  be  long 
enough  to  be  weeks.  I  can  almost  see  my  home 
and  the  loved  ones  there.  When  I  sleep  I 
dream  of  home  only  to  awake  with  aching  head 
and  burning  fever,  my  stomach  rolling  as  the 
waves  of  the  ocean,  my  limbs  aching  with  the 
excruciating  pain  of  that  terrible  North  Caro¬ 
lina  fever. 

March  14th.  I  am  burning  up  with  fever, 
and  my  legs  refuse  to  carry  my  body.  I  stay  in 
my  bunk  to  avoid  seeing  the  doctor  who  has 
ordered  me  to  be  taken  to  the  hospital.  He 
gave  nre  some  medicine  of  which  I  took  one  dose 
and  threw  the  rest  away.  Dave  Connely  soaked 
some  crackers  and  fried  them,  hoping  to  tempt 
my  appetite.  This  was  once  a  very  favorite 
dish  of  mine,  but  now  the  sight  of  it  is  sickening. 
I  can’t  eat  anything.  I  drink  a  little  coffee  but 
it  tastes  as  bitter  as  quinine.  My  strength  is 
failing  instead  of  increasing.  I  passed  the  day 
in  bed,  bathing  my  forehead  with  cold  water, 
which,  at  times,  gave  me  some  relief  from  the 
headache;  but  it  would  soon  return  again  with 
greater  force. 

March  15th.  My  fever  has  abated  somewhat, 
but  I  have  no  appetite  to  eat.  I  bought  half  a 

340 


dozen  eggs  from  a  peddler,  for  which  1  paid 
twenty -five  cents,  and  considered  them  very 
cheap.  I  was  getting  ready  to  fry  them  when 
Connely  came  in  and  said  to  me: 

“See  here,  Boosy,  you  must  not  eat  them. 
They  are  the  worst  things  you  can  eat.” 

However,  I  made  up  my  mind  I  would  eat 
them,  let,  the  result  be  what  it  would.  When 
he  saw  I  was  not  going  to  be  persuaded  to  desist 
he  told  me  firmly  I  should  not  eat  them.  I  was 
as  rebellious  as  my  stomach,  and  broke  them  in 
a  frying-pan,  and  put  them  on  the  fire  to  cook. 

-  He  stood  by  watching  me,  and  as  I  turned  to  get 
some  salt,  he  gave  the  frying-pan  a  kick  and  its 
contents  went  into  the  fire. 

“There,”  he  said,  “I  told  you  you  should  not 
eat  them,  you  darn  fool,  you!” 

My  feelings  may  be  better  imagined  than 
described.  It  seemed  to  me  while  I  was  pre¬ 
paring  to  fry  them,  they  were  the  only  food  1 
cared  for,  and  now  they  were  a  mass  of  ruins. 
I  was  mad  beyond  expression.  I  took  up  the 
frying-pan  and  threw  it  at  him,  and  wished  for 
a  club  to  follow  it  up.  He  dodged  it,  and,  good- 
natured  fellow  that  he  was,  laughed  at  me, 
which  only  served  to*  increase  my  wrath  and 
indignation.  Then  he  said  to  me: 


341 


“You  could  have  ■saved  that  twenty -five  cents 
if  you  had  minded  me  in  the  first  place.” 

He  went  to  the  post-suttler  and  bought  me  a 
can  of  cove  oysters  and  some  tea.  He  made  me 
a  good  cup*  of  tea,  which  I  relished.  I  ate  a  few 
of  the  oysters,  but  they  had  a  bad  taste;  indeed, 
nothing  would  satisfy  me  but  eggs.  I  began  to 
plead  with  him,  and  said : 

“Dave,  I  know  that  if  I  had  some  soft-boiled 
eggs  they  would  be'  good  for  me.” 

He  still  insisted  they  were  the  worst  things  1 
could  eat,  and  so  I  had  to  yield,  but  I  did  it 
reluctantly,  and  still  craved  the  eggs.  The  pay¬ 
master  came  this  afternoon  and  gave  us  two 
months  pay.  We  also  received  our  furloughs 
this  evening. 

Now  our  prison  life  is  over,  ah! 

It  is  a  pleasant  thought; 

And  here  we  await  our  furloughs, 

Ere  again  our  homes  are  sought; 

Farewell  south,  and  all  thy  dead-lines, 

Farewell  traitors,  robbers  too, 

Cherished  friends  of  youth  and  childhood, 

We  are  coming  home  to  you. 

And  will  not  your  smiles  and  welcomes 
Half  repay  our  griefs  and  cares 
When  once  more  you  see  us  sitting 
In  the  old,  familiar  chairs? 

342 


But  there’s  One  who  reigns  above  us* — 
We  should  give  our  thanks  to  Him 
For  the  bright  hopes  in  the  bosom, 
Where  hope  but  languished  dim. 

For  His-  kind  and  loving  Presence, 

That  at  last  we  lived  to  stand 
Free  from  prison-life  in  Dixie, 

In  our  loved  and  loyal  land, 

Let  us-  pray  for  peace  forever — 

For  the  Union  glad  and  free — 

With  a  tear  for  comrades  faithful, 
Whom  we  never  more  shall  see. 
Ever  trusting  One  above  us, 

Though  the  clouds  may  gather  fast; 
Knowing  well  our  Father’s  mansion, 
Will  receive  us  at  the  last. 


343 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


We  Leave  Benton  Barracks — Arrive  at  Iowa 
City — Take  a  Conveyance  for  Home — Sick  at 
a  Farm  House — True  Friendship — Connely 
Reaches  Home — A  Night  of  Terrible  Suffering 
— Near  Death’s  Door — Wife  and  Home  at 
Last — Down  in  the  Valley — Life  Again — 
Good-bye. 

i 

Lytle  City,  Iowa,  December  20th,  1865. 

I  will  now  try  and  finish  my  account  of  my 
prison  life  and  home  coming.  I  left  Benton 
Barracks,  St.  Louis,  Missouri,  March  15th,  1865, 
and  reached  Iowa  City,  Iowa,  March  18th.  This 
point  wasi  the  nearest:  railroad  station  to  my 
home.  Dave  Connely  was  with  me.  I  had  not 
eaten  a  bite  of  food  of  any  kind  for  two1  days,  so 
that  it;  required  all  the  effort  I  could  put  forth 
to  walk,  assisted  by  a  cane.  Here  we  procured 
a  conveyance  to  take  us  to  our  homes,  twenty- 
five  milesi  distant.  The  roads  Were  very  muddy 
and  our  progress1  slow.  We  started  early  Sun¬ 
day  morning,  and  when  about  fifteen  miles  on 
our  journey,  we  stopped  at  a  farm  house  for  din 
ner — the  name  of  the  owner  was  Harrington. 

344 


When  we  reached  this  place  I  was  so  weak  and 
sick  I  could  scarcely  hold  up  my  head.  I  had  a 
very  high  fever,  and  was  very  hungry,  anticipat¬ 
ing  the  pleasure  of  being  able  to  eat  some  food 
at  a  farm  house  table.  The  kind  lady  had  a 
good  dinner  prepared,  and  tried  to  find  some¬ 
thing  I  could  relish.  When  we  sat  down  to  the 
table  I  thought  it  was  such  a  grand  dinner — 
everything  that  could  be  desired  was  spread 
before  me.  I  was  helped  to  a  cup  of  tea,  but  the 
sight  of  it  wa*s  repulsive.  I  could  not  touch  it. 
I  next  tried  to  eat  some  potatoes  that  were  fried 
brown  and  looked  so  tempting,  but  a  rebellious 
stomach  would  not  receive  them.  Then  1 
longed  for  a  glass  of  milk,  but  Dave  remon¬ 
strated  against  my  drinking  it.  I  was  going  to 
rebel  against  what  I  considered  an  unlawful 
interference  on  his  part,  when  the  lady  of  the 
house  told  me  it  would  not  be  good  for  me.  See¬ 
ing  nothing  I  desired  to  eat,  or,  rather,  could  eat, 
I  got  up  from  the  table  and  seated  myself  in  a 
large,  easy,  rocking  chair,  and  being  so  weak 
and  tired,  I  soon  fell  asleep.  I  slept  in  that 
position  until  the  company  left  the  table  and 
came  into  the  room,  which  awakened  me.  My 
stomach  was  in  great  pain;  my  head  ached  and 
my  knees  and  ankles'  were  throbbing  with  the 
terrible  fever  pains. 


345 


Here  I  was',  only  ten  miles  from  home,  i 
could  almost  see  it  now,  although  I  was  so  very 
sick  and  feared  I  could  not  keep  strength  long 
enough  to  reach  it.  My  sufferings,  mental  and 
physical,  were  beyond  description.  The  driver 
had  his  team  ready  to  pursue  his  journey,  but 
my  strength  was  gone — I  was  powerless  to  move. 
I  said  to  Dave: 

“You  go  on  home;  tell  my  wife  where  I  am, 
and  they  will  come  after  me.  I  cannot  endure 
the  trip.” 

“No,”  said  Dave,  “1  have  stayed  with  you  from 
the  beginning,  and  I  will  not  leave  you  now, 
comrade.” 

Such  was  the  bond  of  friendship  that  bound 
us  together,  that  the  noble  fellow  was  willing 
to  make  any  sacrifice  for  me.  He  had  endured 
the  trip  better  than  I  had.  He  had  exercised 
better  judgment,  and  had  greater  control  over 
himself  in  the  matter  of  eating  than  I  had, 
therefore  he  was  in  fair  bodily  condition.  His 
willingness  to  stay  with  and  care  for  me  when 
we  were  so  near  home,  reminded  me  of  what  he 
had  told  me  when  we  were  first  taken  to  the 
rebel  corral  at  Cedar  Creek.  He  was  taken 
there  before  I  was,  and  when  I  was  brought  in 
he  came  to  meet  me,  took  me  by  the  hand,  and 
said 


846 


“I  am  sorry  to  see  you  here,  but  as  I  am  here, 
there  is  not  a  man  in  the  company  I  would 
rather  see  than  you.” 

W e  had  often  divided  our  last  crust,  with  each 
other.  I,  too,  was  sorry  we  were  there,  but  as 
it  was  so,  I  was  glad  to  have  him  with  me.  I 
am  satisfied  I  never  would  have  reached  home 
had  he  not  been  there  to  advise,  cheer  and  help 
me.  And  now,  just  as  we  stood  on  the  thresh - 
hold  of  our  homes,  he  wanted  to  stay  with  and 
care  for  me.  I  insisted  that  he  should  go  on 
home  and  tell  my  wife  where  I  was,  which  would 
be  the  best  service  he  could  render  me.  On  the 
assurance  of  Mr.  Harrington  that  I  would  be 
well  cared  for,  he  reluctantly  left  me.  He 
reached  home  about  midnight  and  told  his  peo¬ 
ple  where  I  was.  His  home  was  only  about  a 
half  mile  from  mine. 

After  Connely  left  me  1  became  delirious. 
Typhoid  pneumonia  had  a  firm  hold  on  me.  The 
kind  lady  of  the  house  insisted  that  I  should  go 
to  bed,  but  I  told  her  we  had  been  covered  with 
graybacks,  and  although  I  had  tried  hard  to 
cleanse  myself  from  them,  there  were  a  few 
clinging  to  me  yet,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  take 
them  into  her  bedding.  But  she  still  insisted 
that  I  go  to  bed,  which  I  had  to  kindly,  but 
firmly,  refuse.  I  spread  my  blanket  on  the  car¬ 
pet,  and  accepted  the  offer  of  a  pillow  which 

347 


she  brought  to  me.  laid  down  but  could  not 
sleep.  At  intervals  I  was  delirious.  About  2 
o’clock  a  hard  rain  fell.  It  came  down  in  tor 
rents.  I  was  suffering  so  much  the  people  of 
the  house  thought  I  would  die  before  morning. 
They  called  up  their  •son,  a  young  man,  anld 
wanted  him  to  go  for  a  doctor  who  lived  four 
miles  away.  Against  this  I  most  earnestly 
remonstrated,  because  the  night  was  so  dark, 
and  it  was  raining  so  hard.  1  told  them  1 
would  be  better  soon. 

About  daylight  my  stomach  pained  me  so 
much  I  could  not  lie  down.  I  got  up  and  tried 
to  walk,  but  my  legs  could  not  bear  the  weight 
of  my  body.  The  lady  of  the  house  made  me 
some  herb  tea  which  I  drank  as  hot  as  I  could 
bear  it,  which  eased  the  pain  somewhat.  1  laid 
down  again  and  fell  asleep.  Being  so  weary  1 
slept  until  about  10  o’clock,  when  some  one 
placed  a  hand  on  my  shoulder  and  called  me  by 
my  name: 

“Frank!” 

This  startled  me,  as  I  recognized  the  voice  to 
be  that  of  my  wife’s  brother,  William  Berry.  1 
got  on  my  feet,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  asked 
him  where  Sarah  (my  wife),  was. 

“She  is  here,”  said  he;  “we  have  come  after- 
yon,  and  have  a  bed  in  the  wagon.” 


348 


T  started  out  to  see  her,  and  to  my  •surprise  it 
was  still  raining.  I  went  out  to  the  wagon, 
shook  hands  with  my  wife,  then  went  back  and 
got  my  blanket,  and  started  for  home  again.  1 
was  placed  in  the  bed1,  and  covered  over  with 
rubber  blankets  to  keep  me  dry.  It  rained  all 
the  time  we  were  on  the  journey.  We  reached 
home  in  the  evening.  I  became  delirious,  and 
about  10  o’clock  that  night  the  family  phydc’an 
was  called  in  to  see  me.  Typhoid  pneumonia 
had  such  a  firm  hold  on  me  that  for  four  weeks 
I  was  in  an  even  balance  between  life  and 
death.  For  three  weeks  of  the  time  I  was 
unconscious,  and  at  no  time  could  I  recognize 
my  wife,  who  was  in  constant  attendance  at  my 
bedside.  It  was  only  by  •such  nursing  as  a  lov¬ 
ing,  devoted  wife  could  give,  aided  bv  a  Merci¬ 
ful  Father  in  Heaven,  that  my  feeble  life  was 
kept  from  going  out  in  the  silence  of  death,  and 
that  I  have  lived  to  pen  this  true,  unvarnished 
history  of  my  life  in,  and  my  release  from  Salis¬ 
bury  Prison. 

Out  of  the  jaws  of  death, 

Out  of  the  mouth  of  hell. 

• _  ...  .  i 

CONCLUSION. 

I  will  here  close  the  accounts  of  the  suffer¬ 
ings  of  the  brave  and  noble  boys  who  uncom¬ 
plainingly  endured  the  hardships  of  southern 

349 


prison  pens  to  perpetuate  and  maintain  the 
national  honor  and  integrity  of  our  fair  land. 
The  13,715  Union  dead  at  Andersonville, 
Georgia  ;  7,000  grave®  at  Belle  Isle,  6,00  Union 
dead  at  Florence,  South  Carolina,  and  the 
12,137  graves  at  Salisbury,  North  Carolina, 
prison  pen  (which  only  existed  during  the  last 

year  of  the  war),  who  preferred  to  fill  honored 
graves  rather  than  surrender  their  loyalty  and 
devotion  to  country  and  flag. 

These  figures  are  startling  facts  that  cannot 
be  realized  by  those  who  were  babes  and  those 
who  have  been  born  since  those  dark  davs.  It 
It  will  not  be  surprising  if  these  facts  are 
assailed.  But  for  all  such  I  am  fortified  by 
facts  from  hundreds  of  survivors  of  those  scenes 
and  who  are  still  living  witnesses  of  this 
history,  as  will  be  seen  by  a  few  letters  found  in 
the  following  appendix. 

When  I  look  back  over  the  dark  days  of  the 
■rebellion,  I  do  not  wonder  that  historians  have 
shrunk  from  the  unpleasant  task  of  making  up 
the  record,  as  it  would  make  the  darkest  pages 
of  our  country’s  history,  and  remain  a  perpet¬ 
ual  and  everlasting  disgrace  to  American  civil¬ 
ization. 


350 


Appendex. 


Letter  From  Martin  Burke,  Esq.,  Superintend¬ 
ent  of)  the  National  Cemetery  at  Salisbury, 
North  Carolina. 


The  following  is  a  verbatim  copy  of  a  letter 
1  received  from  Comrade  Burke,  giving  import¬ 
ant  facts  connected5  with  the  past  and  the 
present  status  of  Salisbury  Prison: 

“National  Cemetery,  Salisbury,  N.-C.,  June  1st, 
1894. 

Mr.  B.  F.  Booth,  Medford,  Iowa: 

Dear  Sir:  Your  communication  of  the  28th 
ult.,  was  duly  received,  asking  for  a  description 
of  the  prison  pen,  etc.  General  Stoneman  cap¬ 
tured,  and  destroyed  by  burning,  the  stockade 
and  prison  pen.  The  place  is  now  covered  with 
houses  and  is  called  ‘South  Brooklyn,’  but  is  a 
part  of  the  town  of  Salisbury.  Having  no  pho¬ 
tographs  of  this  cemetery,  I  enclose  you  a 
sketch,  with  correct  figures  as  to  length,  angles, 
etc.  Graves,  437  and  18  trenches,  where  11,700 
Union  soldiers,  prisoners,  are  buried.  Surface 

351 


level.  ,  The  record  shows  thus:  Known,  102; 
unknown,  12,035;  total  interments,  12,137.  Jacob 
Miller,  Go.  ‘H,7  22nd  Iowa,  is)  among  the 
‘unknown.7 

You  can  get  a  photo  of  the  stockade  as  it 
stood  in  1864  from  Hartranft  Post,  *G.  A.  Ik, 
Oarlotte,  North  Carolina,  where  they  are  for 
sale.  Don7t  know  how  the  population  stood  in 
1864;  now  it  is  nearly  6000 — one-half  of  them 
colored.  On  last  Decoration  Day  the  Hartranft 
Post,  8  members,  and  3,500  colored  people, 
observed  ,the  day  here,  and  strewed  flowers  over 
all  the  graves.  Everything  passed  off  quietly 
and  respectfully.  Not  one  man  (white)  from 
Salisbury  town  attended.  The  rebs  have  no 
military  cemetery  in  or  around  this  vicinity  as 
I  know  of.  This  cemetery  is  just  two  blocks 
directly  west  of  the  stockade,  that  was,  and  one 
half  mile  from  the  railroad  depot.  No  sign  of  a 
stockade  now  exists,  the  whole  place  is  laid  out 
into  streets.  You  may  remember  the  branch 
which  runs  through  the  cemetery  and  south  of 
the  stockade.  Now  it  has  the  same  course,  as 
you  can  see  in  the  sketch. 

The  rebel  commandant  of  the  prison  failed  to 
turn  over  any  record  of  the  prisoners,  or  the 
deaths,  at  Salisbury  Prison  pen.  We  had  to 
open  about  fifty  feet  of  each  trench  and  count 
the  skulls  or  bodies,  then  measure  the  whole 

352 


trench  and  made  an  estimate  according  to  the 
number  found  in  proportion  to  the  length  of  the 
whole  trench.  It  is  supposed  by  the  best  of 
authorities  that  15,000,  instead  of  11,700  are 
buried  in  the  18  trenches  alone. 

Wishing  you  the  best  possible  success  in  your 
undertaking,  I  am,  Very  respectfully 

MARTIN  BURKE,  Superintendent. 

LETTER  FROM  Mr.  D.  SHEEHAN,  NILES, 

MICHIGAN. 

I  am  sure  that  the  following  letter  received 
from  a  comrade  who  was  present  and  partici¬ 
pated  in  the  break  for  liberty  described  in  chap¬ 
ter  14,  will  be  read  with  great  interest  by  all 
who  wish  to  learn  the  true  facts  of  that  most 
tragic  event: 

“Niles,  Michigan,  June  8,  1896. 

B.  F.  Booth,  Indianola,  Iowa  : 

My  Dear  Comrade:  Yours  of  June  1st  at 
hand.  How  I  would  like  to  meet  you  that  I 
might  give  you  a  greeting.  I  can  see  you  now  as 
I  look  back  to  those  fearful  days  when  it  tried 
men’s-  souls,  and  put  their  loyalty  and  patriot¬ 
ism  to  a  test.  I  was  captured  on  30tli  Septem¬ 
ber,  1864,  at  Pegram’s  Farm,  near  Petersburg, 
Virginia,  in  making  attempt  to  cut,  South  Side 
railroad,  was  sent  in  to  the  city,  thence  to  Rich- 

353 


monel,  to  the  three-story  brick  opposite  Libby 
Prison;  thence  through  Danville  to  Salisbury, 
where  we  arrived  somewhat  against  our  will  on 
October  7th,  being  the  first  batch  of  Union  pris¬ 
oners  there.  I  remember  well  the  time,  about 
October  25th,  when  the  men  taken  in  the  Shen¬ 
andoah  Valley  were  brought  in,  and  how  they 
were  robbed  and  abused  by  the  cut-throat  vand¬ 
als  in  our  ranks,  and  summary  treatment  we 
gave  them;  and  how  they  ran  the  gauntlet,  and 
then  taken  out  and  sent  away.  After  this  no 
one  robbed  or  abused  our  men  but  the  rebels. 
\  ou|  also1  think  of  the  time  when  a  number  of 
our  men  went  out  and  joined  the  rebel  army  on 
the  promise  of  good  treatment.  I  recollect  the 
day  the  mule  was  killed  on  the  dead 
wagon,  by  the  guard  and  liow  it  was 
stated  that  we  had  him  for  dinner  the 
next  day.  Now,  as  to  the  attempted  out¬ 
break  on  the25th  November.  It  was  started  bv 

«/ 

the  Sergeants  who  had  charge  of  the  squads. 
They  made  their  plans  in  the  2nd  story  of  No. 
14  building,  and  their  names  as  near  as  I  can 
recollect,  was  as  follows:  McBride,  15tli  U.  S. 
Infantry;  McManus,  of  New  York;  Dunecliffe, 
of  Philadelphia,  Pennsylvania;  Spillune,  New 
York  Infantry;  Sergeant  Keys,  14th  U.  S. 
Infantry,  who  deserted  the  English  army  and 
joined  ours' at  Ogdensbui g,  New  York;  Sergeant 


354 


Mur  ay,  of  Maryland  regiment;  Sergeant  Car- 
roll,  45  th  Pennsylvania  Infantry;  Sullivan,  of 
2nd  Massachusetts  Cavalry,  a  very  large  man; 
Sergeant  Major,  27th  Michigan  Infantry,  with 
myself  and  others.  We  did  it  on  the  expectation 
that  the  67th  North  Carolina  Infantry,  made  up 
of  young  boys  from  16  to  18  years,  and  wdio  had 
been  guarding  up  for  some  time,  and  who  shot 
many  of  our  men  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  them 
fall,  was  gone.  This  regiment  was  ordered  up 
to*  Warren,  North  Carolina,  to  oppose  General 
Warren,  of  the  5th  CorpsjL,  from  making  an 
ad  ranee  on  the  State.  We  learned  that  they 
were  to  go  and  a  regiment  of  old  men  took  their 
place,  and  as  soon  as  the  boys  left  the  station 
the  attack  on  the  relief  was  to  take  place,  which 
was  done  about  3  o’clock  P.  M.  When  the  relief 
guard  came  into1  the  prison  yard  we  drew  tickets 
from  a  hat,  and  on  each  ticket  was  marked  the 
part  each  sergeant  was  to>  take,  with  the  men 
of  their  own  selection.  The  67th  regiment  was 
on  the  train  ready  to  leave,  when  the  rising  took 
place,  and  they  left  the  train  and  ran  to  the 
prison  yard,  where  they  mounted  the  platform, 
and  shot  with  a  vengeance,  or  ,as  long  as  they 
could  see  a  man  to  shoot  at.  Keys,  McBride 
and  Dunnecliffe  led  the  assault  on  the  rebel 
guard,  and  of  the  sixteen  men  in  the  guard,  fif¬ 
teen  were  killed  and  about  thirty  wounded.  I 


355 


was  surprised  when  looking  oyer  the  list  to  find 
that  not  one  of  the  participants  in  that  affair 
was  killed,  the  fatalities  being  among  those  who 
knew  nothing  of  it  till  after  it  started.  We  were 
misinformed  as  to  ,the  leaving  of  the  67th 
Infantry  regiment.  Had  they  gone,  nothing 
would  have  kept  us  in,  as  the  old  men  were 
panic  stricken.  The  day  after  the  rebels  took 
out  several  of  the  sergeants,  among  them  the 
Sergeant  Major  of  the  27th  Michigan,  who  wore 
a  Zouave  uniform,  and  was  very  conspicuous  on 
that  account.  What  was  done  with  them  we 
did  not  learn. . 

The  tunnel  was  started  in  one  of  the  tents  and 
its  exit  was  to  be  under  the  large  frame  build¬ 
ing  near  the  yard,  v  I  went  into  it  one  night 
before  it  was  finished,  and  was  to  be  one  who 
was  to  go  out  when  it  was  completed.  On  the 
day  we  made  ready  to  go  the  project  was  given 
away  to  the  rebels,  and  we  gave  up  going,  as  it 
was  the  rebels’  intention  to  surround  the  build¬ 
ing,  and  when  the  prisoners  made  their  appear¬ 
ance  to  shoot  every  one.  Davis  and  Brown, 
paper  reporters,  whoi  were  there  at  the  time 
taking  care  of  the  sick,  and  who  had  the  privi¬ 
lege  of  going  in  and  out,  were  told  by  an  out¬ 
sider  of  the  discovery,  and  begged  them  to  tell 
the  ,  prisoners  and  save  their  lives.  Davis, 
Brown  and  Richardson  were  to  go  out  with  us. 


356 


No  doubt  you  recollect  these  men.  They,  about 
the  20th  of  December,  made  their  escape,  taking 
the  rebel  ^officer  of  the  day  with  them.  In  my 
journey  from  prison  to  Strawberry  Plains,  Ten¬ 
nessee,  I  traveled  over  nearly  the  same  ground. 

Now,  as  to  my  escape.  On  the  24th  of  Janu¬ 
ary,  ,  I,  with  several  others,  after  several 
attempts  to  get  out  of  Salisbury  Prison,  with  a 
crowd  that  was  taken  out  by  a  Catholic  Priest 
(the  only  clergymen  who  visited  the  prison  to 
console  the  sick  and  dying),  to  a  camp  three 
miles  west  of  Salisbury,  named  “Camp.  York.” 
On  the  night  of  the  25th  Alexander  Hays,  94th 
New  York;  John  Mahoney,  444tli  New  York; 
James  Sullivan,  a  resident  pf  East  Tennessee, 
who  refused  to  enter  the  rebel  army,  and  had 
been!  a  prisoner  for  three  years,  and  myself, 
made  our  escape  by  climbing  over  ,the  stockade. 
I  was  lifted  up  by  Mahoney  reaching  the  top 
and  then  pulling  myself)  over,  and  while  hanging 
over  helped  the  rest  to  get  up.  A  history  from 
this  time  until  my  arrival  at  Strawberry  Plains, 
would  make  a  book  of  itself.  After  thirty-four 
days  of  travel  through  the  wilds  of  western 
North  Carolina,  and  east  Tennessee,  on  the 
morning  of  February  27th  we  beheld  the  bright 
folds  of  our  starry  banner  as  it  floated  in  the 
breeze.  Oh,  Comrade,  I  cannot  describe  to  yoy 
my  feelings  at  that  moment.  I  fell  o 


357 


knees  and  thanked  God  for  imy  deliverance,  as  it 
was  out  of  the  House  of  Bondage  and  the  land 
of  Egypt.  Let  me  hear  from  you  again.  Yours 
truly. 

D.  SHEEHAN. r 

A  STRANGE  DISCOVERY. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  in  Chapter  24  I 
mentioned  the  fact  that  while  on  the  march 
from  Salisbury  to  Greensboro,  some  one  stole 
two  ears  of  corn  from  me,  and  upraiding  a  cer¬ 
tain  comrade  of  my  own  regiment  with  the 
theft.  The  following  interesting  incident  clears 
up  the  mystery,  and  shows  that  I  was  correct  in 
my  suspicion  of  the  guilty  one: 

While  at  a  reunion  of  my  regiment  at  Iowa 
City,  September  10  and  11,  1891,  the  man  whom 
I  accused  of  stealing  my  corn  came  to  me  and, 
calling  me  aside,  told  me  he  did  steal  the  corn 
from  me  that  night,  but  that  it  was  not  wasted, 
as  I  /declared.  On  the  contrary  it  had  saved  his 
life.  He  said  he  saw  me  put  the  corn  under  the 
blanket,  but  did  not  see  me  put  the  sweet  pota¬ 
toes  there,  else  lie  would  have  taken  them  too, 
as  the  temptation  to  get  something  to  eat,  being 
nearly  dead  from  starvation,  was  too  great  for 
him  to'  resist.  This  was  the  rfirst  time  I  had 
heard  of  him  since  we  left  Annapolis,  Mary¬ 
land;  I  supposed  he  was  dead.  My  readers  may 
be  sure  we  had  a  good  hearty  handshaking  over 

358 


if,  my  feelings  at  that  time  being*  far  different 
to  what  they  were  the  night  I  lost  my  corn- 
coffee; 


FROM  THE  YOUNGEST  PRISONER  IN  SAL¬ 
ISBURY. 

I)  ear  Comrade  Booth: 

In  reply  to  yonr  favor  of  recent  date  I  am 
pleased  to  furnish  yon  with  the  story  of  my 
prison  experiences  in  the  South. 

Of  Scottish  birth,  I  came  from  a  family  of 

7 

military  antecedents,  my  great-grandfather  hay- 
ing,  at  nineteen  years  of  age,  fought  for  “Prince 
Charlie77  on  the  fatal  field  of  C-ulloden,  and  one 
of  my  grandfathers  having  served  at  Waterloo, 
under  Wellington,  and  the  other  under  Nelson 
at  Copenhagen.  This  may  in  part  explain  why 
I  enlisted  at  sixteen,  and  served  under  Grant. 
It  was  at  the  battle  of  Beamis  Station  that, 
while  I  had  my  gun  raised  firing  at  the  enemy 
in  front,  the  cry,  “Surrender,  damn  you!77  as  a 
Confederate  knocked  down  my  gun  with  his  car¬ 
bine  from  behind,  told  me  that  Hampton’s'  dis¬ 
mounted  cavalry  had  stolen  upon  us  from  the 
rear.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  describe  the 
scenes  which  immediately  followed  our  capture 
— the  naked  corpses  of  our  men,  stripped  for 
their  clothing,  the  midnight  march,  followed  by 

859 


the  march  into  Petersburg  on  the  following  day, 
and  the  'subsequent  night  on  an  island  in  the 
Appomattox.  Then  came  the  ride  to  Rich¬ 
mond,  where  we  were  searched  and  robbed  at 
Libby  Prison,  and  then  about  five  weeks  at  Belle 
Isle.  Belle  Isle  was  a  paradise  compared  with 
Salisbury,  to  which  we  were  removed  about  the 
first  of  October.  The  journey  took  three  days 
and  two  nights.  We  arrived  at  Salisbury  on 
the  third  evening,  and  were  marched  by  a  round¬ 
about  route  to  the  stockade.  I  had  left  Belle 
Isle  without  shoes,  and  the  weather  at  night 
was  frosty  and  cool.  I  was  assigned  to  a  tent 
near  the  cannon  at  what  I  should  call  the  south- 
east  corner  of  the  stockade — the  corner  nearest 
the  railway  depot.  The  tent  was  crowded,  and 
I  went  to  stay  under  the  frame  hospital,  on  the 
ground.  We  used  to  “spoon”  together  to  keep 
warm.  There  is  no  need  to  repeat  the  awful 
story,  so  well  known  to  you  and  to  others  who 
were  there — how  at  first  the  dead  were  carried 
out  in  coffins,  and  then  we  noticed  the  same 
coffins  come  back,  and  then,  as  the  number 
grew,  no  coffins  were  used,  and  the  corpses  were 
heaped  up  like  cordwood  in  the  dead-wagons. 
Then  came  the  attempt  to  enlist  us,  of  foreign 
birth,  in  the  Confederate  service.  Suffering 
and  hungry  as  I  was^  I  remember  the  parting 
words  of  my  mother — “Die  in  a  ditch  sooner 


360 


than  do  anything  dishonest.”  I  felt  that  it 
would  be  dishonest  to  purchase  deliverance 
from  misery  and  death  at  the  expense  of  violat¬ 
ing  my  oath  to  the  Union,  and  I  made  answer 
to  that  effect  when  the  choice  was  presented 
to  me. 

Every  Salisbury  survivor  remembers  the 
attempted  break  of  November  25,  1864.  I 
regret  that  the  story  has  never  been  told  by  one 
of  the  leaders  in  it.  Although  I  took  part  in  it, 
it  was  not  until  afterward  that  I  beard  the 
details  of  the  plot.  I  understand  the  plan  was 
to  have  a  general  rising  of  the  prisoners  as  soon 
as  the  able-bodied  regiment  of  guards  had 
stalled  from  the  depot  for  the  front.  The  sig¬ 
nal  was' given  too  soon.  I  was  aroused  by  the 
cry,  “Prepare  to  strike  for  liberty,”  and  I  joined 
in  the  rush  for  the  big  gate.  There  is  an  impres¬ 
sion  on  my  mind  that  we  expected  the  big  gate 
to  be  open  for  water  carrying,  but  it  was  closed. 
Then  we  turned  toward  the  small  gate,  and 
about  that  time  the  Confederates  opened  on  us 
with  cannon  and  rifles,  and  I  believe  some  of 
the  citizens  had  shotguns.  Many  of  our  men 
sought  cover,  but  a  number  of  us  remained  in 
mass  in  the  market  space  until  all  was  over.  T 
was  in  about  the  center  of  this  crowd.  We  all 
dropped  to  let  the  bullets  pass  over.  If  you 
ask  my  feelings  at  the  time  I  will  s'ay  that,  not 

361 


having  been  in  the  secret  of  the  original  plan,  I 
did  not  know  that  the  plan  had  failed,  and  was 
thinking  that  we  would  make  another  rush  in 
some  direction.  It  was  not  until  the  big  gate 
swung  open,  and  the  rebels  marched  in  that  I 
saw  lire  affair  was  over.  The  number  that  took 
part  in  the  break  was  probably  from  500  to 
1,000,  and  the  number  of  our  men  killed  and 
wounded — eighty-one  killed,  two  hundred  and 
sixty-seven  wounded — in  a  few  minutes,  showed 
the  frightful  extent  of  the  massacre.  I  under¬ 
stood  that  three  or  four  rebels  were  killed,  one 
being  shot  as  he  stood  on  the  stockade,  by  one 
of  our  men  with  a  gun  taken  from  the  guards 
inside. 

The  death  rate  continued  to  grow,  and  I 
would  have  gone  to  the  trenches  too,  but  for  the 
kindness  of  a  civilian  prisoner,  Mr.  Albert  D. 
Richardson,  correspondent  of  the  New  York 
Tribune,  who  noticed  my  youth  and  my  emaci¬ 
ated  condition,  and  took  me  to>  his  quarters.  I 
was  of  some  slight  assistance  to  him,  in  his 
escape,  being  the  “little  lad”  whom  he  mentions 
in  his  book  as  carrying  the  medicine  chest  to  the 
gate. 

After  the  break  the  guards  used  to  fire  into 
the  prison  frequently  at  night,  and  many  of  our 
men  were  killed  in  this  way,  without  having 
given  any  offense  whatever. 


362 


I  was  exchanged  in  March,  1865,  and  it  may 
interest  Salisbury  'survivors  to  know  that  the 
representations  made  by  Mr.  Richardson  in  Jan¬ 
uary  of  that  year  to  the  authorities  at  Wash¬ 
ington,  after  his  successful  escape,  regarding 
the  awful  suffering  of  our  men  at  Salisbury,  had 
much  to  do  with  bringing  about  exchanges. 

Major  John  IT.  Gee,  who  commanded  the  Sal¬ 
isbury  prison,  undoubtedly  perished  some  years 
ago  by  the  wall  of  a  building  which  was  on  fire 
at  Jacksonville,  Florida,  falling  upon  him.  Of 
the  fact  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt,  as  I  saw 
it  in  the  Savannah  News.  Gee  was  far  more 
deserving  of  death  than  Wirz.  Wirz  was  con¬ 
demned  for,  among  other  charges,  having 
ordered  the  guard  to  shoot  down  prisoners  who 
attempted  to  cross  the  dead-line.  Gee  encour¬ 
aged,  if  he  did  not  order  liis  guards  to  shoot 
down  prisoners  who  made  no  attempt  to  cross 
the  dead-line,  and  when  a  murder  of  this  kind 
was  committed  Gee  rewarded  the  murderer  with 
a  furlough.  There  seems  to  be  no  doubt  also 
that  sick  or  wounded  prisoners  were  sometimes 
buried  alive. 

/ 

The  war  has  long  been  over;  its  lessons  have 
been  taught  and  learned,  and  the  best  interests 
of  our  country  demand  that  a  union  of  hearts 
should  support  the  Union  of  states  ;  but  that  is 

363 


no  reason  why  history  should  remain  unwritten, 
or  be  written  untruthfully. 

Yours  ever, 

HENRY  MANN, 
710  Hancock  St.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

My  readers  will  remember  the  mention  I 
made  of  Comrade  Auringer,  who  made  me  a 
present  of  the  “bone  bible”  relic  as  he  was  about 
to  take  his  flight  from  the  prison,  and  who  was 
afterward  reported  shot.  The  following 

LETTER  FROM  LOUIS  K.  AURINGER 

This  shows  that  he  is  alive 

Const  an  cia,  New  York,  August  10th,  1897. 
Comrade  B.  F.  Booth: 

Your  letter  to  me  was  a  happy  sur¬ 
prise.  Your ,  name  had  slipped  from  my 
mind,  but  now  I  remember  you  clearly.  You 
are  the  one  who  had  the  title  of  “Reporter/7  on 
account  of  keeping  a  record  of  the  incidents  in 
the  prison.  Yes,  Comrade,  I  clearly  remember 
your  giving  me  your  wife’s  address,  and  that  I 
promised  to  write  to  her  when  I  reached  home, 
if  I  should  be  so  fortunate;  but  if  I  could  tell 
you  of  that  terrible  march  of  more  than  400 
miles  over  the  wilds  of  that  mountainous 
country,  traveled  mostly  by  night,  you  would 
not  wonder  that  we  lost  about  everything  but 
our  lives,  and  barely  escaped  with  that.  How- 

364 


ever,  I  succeeded  in  keeping  that,  ring,  and  have 
it  yet,  the  most  cherised  relic  of  Salisbury,  but 
your  wife’s  address>  was  lost,  together  with  all 
papers  and  trinkets  we  had  about  us.  This 
accounts  for  my  not  fulfilling  my  promise.  , 

Gillman  was  not  a  brother-in-law  but  a  chum 
in  my  company.  He  was  recaptured  about  fifty 
miles  from,  the  “pen,”  and  there  was  one  other 
of  our  squad  whom  we  never  saw  after  our  race 
on  that  eventful  night;  and  he  may  have  been 
the  man  who  was  killed,  as  Gillman  reported. 

I  am  happy  to  say  that  through  a  kind  Provi¬ 
dence  I  am  yet  alive  and  “a  very  lively  corpse,” 
but  no  money  could  ever  hire  me  to  go  through 
another  such  an  experience  as  we  had  in  Salis¬ 
bury  Prison  pen.  It  seems  so  strange  to  me 
that  no  history  of  that  prison  has  ever  been 
written,  while  Andersonville,  Belle  Isle,  Libby 
and  other  prisons  are  so  well  known,  while  tire 
suffering  in  Salisbury  was  far  greater  and  the 
death  rate  beyond  anything  ever  known  in  a 
prison  in  the  south.  It  was,  I  suppose,  as  Major 
Gee  so  often  threatened  us,  that  he  would  have 
the  barn-burners  all  in  the  Confederate  army, 
or  in  hell,  in  thirty  days.  But  I  am  proud  of  the 
boys  who  ,so  manfully  braved  the  suffering  and 
privation  of  the  prison,  and  stood1  the  severest 
test  of  loyalty  possible  or  ever  imposed  on  man. 
I  am  glad  you  are  going  to  have  ,your  record 


305 


printed.  I  rejoice  to  know  that  the  inhuman¬ 
ity  and  suffering  in  that  place  is  to  be  put  in 
print  while  there  are  yet  living  witnesses  to  the 
facts.  From  your  physical  condition  the  uignt 
I  bid  you  farewell  in  Salisbury,  little  did  I  think 
you  would  ever  live  to  nerforni  that  duty.  1 

t  t 

congratulate  you  on  being  alive  and  wish  you 
success  in  your  undertaking,  and  if  I  can  be  of 
any  service,  write  me.  I  am  your  obedient 


servant, 


LEWIS  K.  AURINGEE. 


TESTIMONY  OF  REV.  DR.  MAN  GUMS,  A 
CONFEDERATE  PREACHER, 


To  attest  the  truth  of  what  we  have  written 
of  the  horrors'  of  Salisbury,  many  other  letters 
might  be  printed,  but  we  shall  be  content  to 
introduce  extracts  from  articles  of  Rev.  Dr. 
Mangums,  printed  in  the  Charlotte  Observer, 
May  and  June,  1893.  He  was  Professor  of 
Moral  and  Mental  Philosophy  in  the  University 
of  North  Carolina  in  1890.  He  y-as  living  in 
Salisbury  during  the  war,  and  was  an  eye  wit¬ 
ness  to  the  events  he  describes,  and  though 
writing  to  defend  and  excuse  the  barbarity  of 
the  prison  management,  bears  witness  to  all  the 
horrors  described  in  our  book.  He  says : 

“ About  the  last  of  September,  1864,  ,Major 
Gee  received  a  despatch  from  Richm'ond,  order- 

366 


mg  him  to  make  provisions  immediately  for  a 

very  large  number  of  prisoners.  *  *  *  He 

was  greatly  .shocked  by  the  order,  for  he  knew 

it  would  be  impossible  to  take  care  of  so  many, 

but  bad  as  it  was  at  Salisbury,  it  was  worse  at 

Richmond.”  , 

*  *  * 


When  the  prisoners  came  they  could  not  be 
supplied  with  tents,  so  suffered  greatly 
from  exposure.”  *  *  *  “They  resorted  to 

Yankee  ingenuity  to>  provide  shelter — a  few 
crowded  under  the  hospital  and  other  houses, 
and  slept  there  in  bad  weather;  but  the  main 
resort  was  burrowing  in  the  earth.  The  whole 
enclosure  was  literally  honeycombed  by  these 
burrows.  They  were  queer-looking  holes,  dug 
some  three  feet  .deep,  with  mud-thatched  roofs, 
a  hole  being  punched  through  the  surface  at  one 
end  and  a  little  chimney  built  out  of  baked 
earth.  *  *  *  The  tenant  had  either  to  sit 


or  lie  down,  as  they  were  too  shallow  for  him 
to  stand.  They  must  have  been  wretchedly 
uncomfortable  and  destructive  of  health  and 
life  in  the  incessant  rains  that  fell  in  January 
and  February,  18G5.  The  hospitals ,  were 
crowded,  and  such  a  number  died  in  them  that 
some  preferred!  to  linger  and  suffer  their  sick¬ 
ness  in  these  little  cells.  v  Consequently  they  not 
infrequently  died  there  alone,  and  were  not  dis¬ 
covered  for  days.  ” 


367 


This  is  the  testimony  of  a  Confederate  Divine. 


SICK— FILTHY— RAGGED. 

The  Doctor  further  says:  “The  Confederacy 
was  in  its  last  struggle — its  resources  all  gone, 
and  therefore,  though  the  condition  of  the  pris¬ 
oners  was  wretched  and  appalling,  there  was  no 
way  to  ameliorate  it.  They  were  in  a  miserable 
plight  when  they  came.  Large  numbers  of  them 
were  unable  to  walk,  and  had,  to  be  carried  from 
the  train  to  the  prison.  Those  who  had  been 
confined  elsewhere  for  a  long  time  were  pale, 
emaciated  and  dejected.  Many  of  them  were 
very  filthy  and  ragged.  Some  were  without  hat. 
or  cap  or  any  sign  of  shoes.  The  clothing  of 
many  was  very  meagre  and  of  summer  texture. 
A  very  large  portion  had  no  blankets.  Such 
being  their  condition  it  is  evident  that  their  suf¬ 
ferings  in  the  cold  winter  were  intolerable.  Sit¬ 
uated  as  they  were  the  allowance  of  wood, 
according  to  army  regulations,  was  insufficient. 
Yet  as  to  fuel  most  energetic  efforts  were  made 
to  supply  them.  *  *  *  In  addition  to  their 

other  ills,  they  had  to  bear  the  pangs  of  hunger. 
Just  prior  to  their  sudden  advent,  Major  Myers, 
post  commissary,  had,  in  obedience  to  orders, 
sent  all  or  nearly  all,  his  stores  to  Richmond, 
Gbldsoboro  and  Wilmington.” 


CLIMBING  OAKS  FOB  ACORNS. 


*  *  “They  suffered  intensely  from 

hunger.  They  would  climb  the  oaks  for  acorns, 
and  fish  from  the  filthy  sewers  the  crust’s'  and 
the  bones.  The  sick  especially  suffered,  as  what 
they  got;  was  often  so  coarse  that  they  could  not 
eat  it. 

*  *  * 

“Although  such  efforts  were  made  to  provide 
water,  the  supply  was  insufficient  for  drinking, 
cooking  and  washing.  Wells  were  dug  until 
they  drained  one  and  another.” 

“The  hospital  accommodations  were  not  such 
as  were  desired  by  the  prison  officials,  and  were 
greatly  inadequate  to  the  necessities  of  so  large 
a  number  of  men  so  unfavorably  situated.  The 
buildings  were  too  small,  there  was  a  limited 
supply  of  bunks  and  coverings  and  even  straw, 
and  withal  a  distressing  scarcity  of  medicines.” 

PESTILENCEi  AND  DEATH. 

“There  was  terrible  mortality  in  the  prison. 
From  the  1st  of  October,  1864,  to  the  17th  of 
February,  1865,  there  were  3,419  deaths  among 
the  prisoners.  The  number  of  daily  deaths  var¬ 
ied  from  eighteen  to  forty.  On  one  day  about 
sixty-five  died.  In  its  worst  days  the  condition 
of  the  prisoners  was  shocking — the  appearance 
and  suffering  of  the1  prisoners  harrowing  in  the 

369 


extreme.  The  reel  clay  soil  held  the  water  and 
under  the  tramp  of  thousands  became  one  •scene 
of  mud.  In  December  a  number  of  prisoners 
were  detailed  to  police  the  enclosure,  but  so 
boggy  was  the  whole  surface  that  they  could  do 
but  little.  Ditching  would  not  drain  the  ground 
sufficiently.  The  prisoners  were  the  very  per¬ 
sonification  of  forlorn  wretchedness.  They 
seemed  to  grow  more  and  more  dejected  and 
ennui  congealed  the  very  springs  of  life. 
Doomed  to  inevitable  idleness  and  inactivity, 
with  no  sight  but  such  as  aggravated  the  gloom 
and  horror  of  their  shrouded  hearts,  with  hope 
deferred  from  week  to  week,  from  month  to 
month,  many  of  them  sank  under  the  sheer  bur¬ 
den  of  despair,  and  with  a  stolid  silence  and 
indifference  to  time  or  eternity,  finished  their 
mortal  sorrows'  in  death.” 

THE  DEAD  i  BURIED  NAKED— SICKEN¬ 
ING  SIGHTS. 


“There  was  a  small  brick  building  near  the 
center  of  the  prison,  which  was  used  as  a  recep¬ 
tacle  for  the  dead  until  they  were  carried  to  the 
burial  grounds.  They  were  hauled  then,  with¬ 
out  coffins,  to  the  old  field  west  of  the  prison. 
A  detail,  first  of  convicts  and  afterwards  of  pris¬ 
oners  of  war,  was  kept  day  by  day,  constantly 
digging  the  long  pits  in  which  they  were 

370 


interred.  These  pits  were  four  feet  deep,  a  lit¬ 
tle  over  six  feet  wide,  and  were  extended  par¬ 
allel  about  sixty  yards.  The  bodies  were  laid 
in  them  without  covering- — there  was  not  mater¬ 
ial  to  cover  the  living,  much  less  the  dead.  They 
were  laid  side  by  side,  as1  closely  as  they  could 
lie,  and  when  the  number  was  too  large  for  the 
space  that:  was  dug,  one  would  be  placed  on  top 
between  every  two.  They  generally  had  very 
little  clothing  on,  as  the  living  were  permitted 
to  take  their  garments.  Seldom  does  it  fall  to 
the  lot  of  man  to  behold  a  more  sickening  and 
heartrending  spectacle  than  they  presented.  It 
was  a  lesson  on  the  vanity  of  this  life  more 
impressive  and  eloquent  than  tongue  or  pen  can 
describe.  It  was  a  picture  of  the  hellish  curse 
of  war,  in  one  of  its  most  horrible  and  hideous 
aspects.  I  begged  the  workmen  at  least  to  get 
some  brush  to  lay  over  their  faces.  Sadly  have 
I  mused,  as  I  stood  and  gazed  upon  tlieir  atten¬ 
uated  forms,  as  they  seemed  the  very  romance 
of  the  horrible  in  shroudless,  coffinless  grave. 
Those  long,  bony  hands  were  once  the  dimpled 
pride  of  a  devoted  mother,  and  on  that  cold, 
blanched  brow  tender  love  had  often  pressed 
the  kiss  of  a  mother’s  lips.  Perhaps  while  I 
gazed  on  their  hapless  fate,  a  fond  wife  and 
prattling  children  were  watching  for  the  mail 
that  they  might  receive  the  longed  for  tidings 

371 


from  him  who  was  best  beloved.  But  I  turn 
from  the  theme,  as  I  always  turned  from  those 
harrowing,  chilling  burials,  with  a  heart  full  of 
sadness,  and  shuddering  over  the  unwritten  ter¬ 
rors  and  calamities  of  war. 

“From  the  congregated  evils  of  imprisonment 
the  prisoners  were  always  anxiously  seeking  to 
escape.  Gladly  did  they  accept  any  opportun¬ 
ity  to  get  out,  however  laborious  the  duties  for 
which  they  were  detailed.  Numbers  of  them 
were  on  parole  or  detail  for  various'  duties. 
Some  were  clerks,  some  in  the  workshops,  some 
in  the  shoe  factories,  some  digging  graves,  some 
hauling  wood  on  the  train,  etc.,  etc. 

RECRUITING  OFFICER. 

“A  Col.  Tucker  came  there  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  recruits  from  their  number  for  the  Con¬ 
federate  army.  Only  foreigners  were  allowed 
to  enlist.  Nearly  eighteen  hundred  took  the 
oath  administered  by  a  Catholic  priest.  Some 
may  have  taken  this  step  in  good  faith,  as  it  is 
known  they  were  often  recruited  by  foul  means 
in  the  United  States,  but  a  great  number  chose 
it  as  the  only  means  of  escape  from  their  ter¬ 
rible  den.  They  were  called  “galvanized 
Yankees,”  and  while  most  of  them  made 
scarcely  a  show  of  fighting  when  the  test  came, 

372 


a  few  stood  tlieir  ground  and  fought  with  true 
courage.” 

THE  DEPARTURE. 

*  *  *  *  “About  the  20th  of  February  all 

who  were  well  enough  were  removed.  The  sick 
were  carried  on  the  trains.  The  hospitals  were 
emptied  of  all  who  could  travel.  It  was  a  pit¬ 
iable  spectacle  to  see  the  haggard,  staggering 
patients  marching  to  the  train.  Some  faltered 
along  alone;  some  walking  in  couples,  support¬ 
ing  one  another;  now  and  then  three  would 
come  together,  the  one  in  the  middle  dragged 
along  by  the  other  two;  and  occasionally  sev¬ 
eral  would  bear  a  blanket  on  which  was 
stretched  a  friend  unable  to  walk  or  stand. 
Deeply  was  every  heart  stirred  which  was  not 
dead  to  sympathy,  as  the  throng  gazed  on  the 
heartrending  pageant.  God  forbid  I  should 
ever  be  called  to  witness  the  like  again!  At 
the  train  they  received  refreshments  from  the 
hands  of  several  citizens.  About;  2,800  started 
to  march  to  Greensboro.  A  great  many  who 
started  were  unable  to  make  the  march.  Besides 
the  stragglers,  two  hundred  were  left  at  Lex¬ 
ington  and  five  hundred  the  next  day,  were 
abandoned  on  the  road.  About  one  thousand 
failed  on  the  way. 


373 


NEGROS  STARVED  AND  SHOT  SAME  AS 
WHITE  PRISONERS. 


“I  have  failed  to  mention  that  three  or  four 
hundred  negroes  were  brought  to  the  prison, 
and  were  treated  precisely  as  other  prisoners  of 
war. 

“ After  this  general  delivery  about  five  hun¬ 
dred  were  confined,  some  of  them  from  Sher- 
maifs  army  and  were  hurried  to  Charlotte  just 
in  time  to  escape  Stonemaids  raiders  in  April. 
The  day  that  Stoneman  captured  Salisbury  his 
prisoners  were  penned  in  the  very  same  stock¬ 
ade  which  had  so  long  enclosed  the  horde's  of 
Federal  captives.  All  the  buildings  and  stock¬ 
ade  were  burned  by  St  on  email's  orders  on  the 
night  of  the  12th  of  April.  A  number  of  his 
men  had  been  imprisoned  there,  and  doubtless 
some  of  them  were  in  the  detail  to  which  was 
assigned  the  avenging  Torch.  ” 

“Having  written  thus  frankly  of  the  dark  his¬ 
tory  of  this  great  reservoir  of  misery  and;  death, 
I  now  ask,  Who  is  to  blame  ?” 

We  have  quoted  only  such  statements  from 
the  articles  of  Dr.  Mangums  as  bear  upon 
the  actual  condition  of  the  prisoners.  The 
apology  and  defense  offered  by  the  learned  Doc¬ 
tor  can  never  excuse  the  Confederate  officers, 
for  the  most  unexampled  barbarism  ever  prac- 

374 


tice'd:  by  a  people  making*  pretentions:  to  civili¬ 
zation.  No  nation  or  people  have  any  right  by 
the  laws  of  war  to  take  prisoners  whom  they 
know  themselves  to  be  unable  to  treat  humanely 
— to  do  so  is  simply  barbarous.  It  is  seen  that 
the  facts  stated  in  my  narrative  are  fully  sub¬ 
stantiated,  by  rebel  testimony,  as  well  as  by 
men  who  were  in  prison  with  me. 


375 


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